


Is This What You Really Want? A Giantess Fantasy Gone Wrong

by JoyceJulep



Category: Original Work
Genre: Amazon, Deepthroat, Dominatrix, F/M, Female Domination, Femdom, Fetish, Fivesome - F/F/F/F/M, Goddess, Growing, Growth, Height Comparison, Height Differences, Height Kink, Humiliation, Macro/Micro, Macrophilia, Shrinking, Size Difference, Size Kink, Verbal Humiliation, blowjob, growth fetish, rimjob, seize fetish, short guy, short man - Freeform, shrink fetish, size comparison, tall girl, tall woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 57,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24203506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoyceJulep/pseuds/JoyceJulep
Summary: Timothy Springer is a normal 28-year-old guy, standing at a normal 5’8, weighing a normal (if slightly below average) 165 pounds, and working a normal job. Everything about Timothy seems normal and unremarkable…except for his secret fetish. He's a macrophiliac -- he desperately longs to become smaller, weaker, and submissive to the women around him. And he wants them to grow, to surpass him in every way.His fantasies are impossible...until he meets Maia, a mysterious goddess who appears to him one night. She says that she can make all his dreams come true, but warns him to think hard about what he is actually asking for. Timothy quickly agrees to all of her rules, and his fantasies slowly start to become a reality. But does Timothy realize what he's set in motion? Is this all what he really wanted?
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	1. Timothy Is A Beta

“Hmmm, I don’t think this batch is sweet enough, Timmy,” said Ashley, withdrawing her testing finger from her mouth with a moist pop. “It needs more high fructose and less phosphoric acid.”

Timothy Springer leaned back in his chair and huffed a sigh, rolling his eyes up at the factory ceiling of Fizzy Pop, Inc. He hadn’t been able to get the recipe right today. Ashley, one of the batch testers, had been hounding his ass all morning about the correct ingredient levels. Her constant nagging was starting to irritate Timothy, but even more than that, she still hadn’t honored his request to be called by his actual name. 

“I told you, Ashley,” he said, dropping his eyes back down from the ceiling, “my name’s Timothy, not Timmy. No one else outside of this job ever calls me Timmy.” 

“Aww but I like “Timmy” more,” said Ashley, cracking a smile. “The name “Timothy” sounds too official for you.”

“Yeah!” came a laughing voice. Timothy looked around to see Patricia, another one of the batch testers, enter the room and stand next to his chair, looking down on him. “Like, Timmy, if you were our superior, say like, a supervisor or something, then maybe we’d call you “Timothy.”” 

“But you’re just a batch mixer,” came a third voice. He rolled his eyes again, not even needing to see who it was to know that Katie had joined in on the fun. “So you’re “Timmy.”” The three women laughed heartily at their own jokes as their eyes danced down at Timothy, who continued to sit moodily in his chair. 

“Ha ha you three,” replied Timothy sarcastically, “you all are just hilarious. Did you know that?” Deep down, though, he knew the girls were right — he certainly didn’t have a lot of power at Fizzy Pop, Inc. And even though Ashley, Patricia, and Katie had all joined the company around the same time he had a year ago, they had risen in the ranks as a result of their high performance. Timothy, though, had not quite managed to master his job yet, even though his performance was satisfactory. 

Come to think of it, he was just about average in every way. At 5’8 and 165 pounds, with features that weren’t either handsome or ugly, he had spent the majority of his adult life, up to his current age of 28, simply coasting by, not having any real effect on anything around him. He came to work 8 hours a day, 40 hours a week, and spent most of his time trying not to screw anything up too badly. He was an average guy at an average company who did an average job — he had no real ambitions to speak of….except……

Timothy Springer kept a deep secret. While it was clear to just about anyone, especially Ashley, Patricia, and Katie, that he was a timid beta male who didn’t have the strength or intelligence to defend himself from their teasing, no one knew his true desire: he was a hopelessly obsessed macrophiliac. Ever since he was a little boy, he had been fascinated with giantesses and larger, taller women. He had no idea how he had gotten this way; all he knew was that the older he got, the more powerful this fetish became. For it was indeed a fetish — Timothy spent hours almost every night on his computer, going through image after image, frame after frame, page after page of giantess content on the far corners of the internet. Giant women growing before his eyes…men shrinking down smaller and smaller, even as the women around them became bigger and bigger, taller and taller, their asses and breasts swelling, all the time becoming more and more dominant the bigger they became.

This was Timothy’s fantasy. He thought about it all the time, especially during moments like these, when the three girls were teasing him. He looked at the three of them, giggling and laughing at him, and could feel his cock start to thicken a little in his pants at the light humiliation they were inflicting. If only….but there it was again…he was losing himself in those crazy giantess fantasies again. He knew they weren’t possible. As he looked at his three female coworkers, he had caught himself imagining them much bigger, and much prettier. True, none of them were really bad-looking, and Katie was actually pretty cute. But they were all plain-looking compared to the amazon giantesses he fantasized about every night. And what’s more, all three of them were shorter than him. Ashley came pretty close to his height, since she stood around 5’6 or so…once, she had even worn heels to a company function and stood a couple inches taller than him. She had teased him about it, and even went so far as to pet him on the top of the head and pretend that he was her younger brother…it had all been too much for Timothy, and he was forced to leave the party and go home to jerk himself off to crazy thoughts of Ashley being one, two, three feet taller than him. 

Patricia and Katie were both around 5’4, but that didn’t stop them from teasing Timothy like he was their younger brother. The three girls weren’t malevolent and didn’t actually want to hurt him; they were all just better at their jobs and enjoyed lightly teaming up on him for a bit of a laugh. It helped them deal with the frustrations of working with a colleague who was a bit slower on the uptake than they were. 

“Well I know we’re pretty funny,” said Ashley knowingly, winking at down Timothy. “Let’s see what Clare says when she comes in here.”

“Aww no, Ashley!” complained Timothy, standing up from his chair suddenly. “You didn’t text Clare about this, did you?” 

“Of course she did,” said Patricia simply. “What else would you expect, Timmy?” 

“It’s just that…uh…it’s just — I can do better,” he stammered lamely. 

“Yeah, we know,” said Ashley, not unkindly but with a little bite in her voice. “That’s why I’m getting Clare in here to help set you straight.” 

He sighed, drooping his shoulders defeatedly as he sank back beneath the three women and into his chair. He really didn’t want to deal with Clare right now. She was his boss, the Supervisor of Quality Control at the Fizzy Pop plant. She wasn’t particularly bright, but it was definitely true to say that she knew how to play her cards right. She had risen quickly in the ranks of the company because she had managed to seduce one of Fizzy Pop’s regional managers. She must have been pretty good in bed, because in only a few months she had gone from a batch mixer like Timothy to the quality supervisor for the whole plant. Timothy felt his heart sink a little as he heard the tell-tale signs of her walking down the hall: her high heels clinked and clacked smartly against the concrete plant floor, echoing off the hallway walls. 

“Ooooo here she comes,” Katie teased. 

“The alpha female coming to discipline the beta male,” joined in Patricia, giggling. 

“Would you all seriously stop it?” said Timothy irritatedly. It was already enough to be told that he wasn’t doing a good enough job. But their gentle humiliation was turning him on, and he resented having to rearrange himself in his chair to hide his growing erection. 

“Timmy, Timmy, Timmy,” came Clare’s voice from the hallway, and a moment later she strode into the room, shaking her head back and forth. “Too much phosphoric acid in the batch, huh? Come on, Timmy, we’re making soft drinks here, not farm fertilizer.” Ashley, Patricia, and Katie snickered at Clare’s joke. 

“I—I know, Clare,” said Timothy, feeling a little intimidated in the presence of his boss. “I just…I just need a little more practice to, uh…to uh, get the levels right.” 

“Hmmm, yes, clearly you do,” said Clare matter-of-factly. She was standing directly in front of his chair now, her hands folded behind her back as she looked down on him, a bit sternly. She looked at him like that silently for a few moments. 

“Come on Timmy,” she said abruptly, “let’s review the recipe one more time, shall we?” Timothy obeyed and fumbled at his desk for the appropriate papers. Clare moved to join the three other women beside his desk. In her three-inch heels, Clare was almost exactly Timothy’s height. She was by far the most attractive female at the company, and she knew it. She had a long mane of wavy red hair that went down to her middle back, and as far as her fashion choices were concerned, it was clear to everyone, and especially Timothy, that she chose her wardrobe with one thing in mind: exerting her sexual appeal over her male employees. And it definitely worked. She could get the men under her to do all kinds of things that they wouldn’t ordinarily do. The female employees looked up to her with reverence, and admired how much she was able to exert her power over the guys at the company. Deep down, Ashley, Patricia, Katie, and all the other women at the company felt a mixture of admiration and jealousy. They all wanted that same power over men that Clare had.

But none of them quite had Clare’s figure; today she had squeezed her curvaceous body into a shiny black dress that only reached down to about her mid-thighs, leaving little of her shape to the imagination. With every movement, she flashed her thick wide hips, her prodigious fleshy ass, and her rounded D-cup breasts. Timothy wondered how much she weighed…she was so curvy and fleshy that he was sure that she weighed more than his slight-build 165 pounds. 

‘God, she probably weighs at least 170 or 175,’ he thought as he gaped down at her developed thighs and her rounded vigorous ass. 

“Eyes up here Timmy,” Clare’s voice cut in, as she snapped her fingers in front of his face. 

“Oh! S-sorry Clare,” he mumbled in embarrassment. Clare’s eyes narrowed playfully as she chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. 

“Well, I can’t really blame you,” she said arrogantly, enjoying the appreciative laughs of Ashley, Patricia, and Katie. “And at this point I’m just used to it.” She spread her arms and did a complete 360-degree turn, giving Timothy and the other women a full view of her figure. She came back around, smiling at him deviously. 

“There. Had your fill for the day?”

He nodded his head sheepishly, not knowing how else to respond. 

“Good,” she said, “because now it’s time to pay attention to the batch recipe. Let’s review it one more time, alright? Girls you can join in too, and if you can think of any special tips to help our little Timmy here, please speak up, ok?” 

“Ok!” all three of them said enthusiastically. Timothy felt the color start to rise up his neck into his face, more from arousal at Clare’s unintended use of the phrase “little Timmy” than anything else. She had meant it as a slight and harmless tease, but to him it went straight to his dick. He crossed his legs in his chair as the four women gathered around him to review the recipe, hoping that his position would hide his erection. This was too much, he suddenly realized…his increased preoccupation with his giantess fetish was probably causing him to lose his concentration at his job. As Clare talked and the other three girls chimed in from time to time, Timothy struggled to absorb what they were saying. In such close proximity to the four women, he could not help but imagine himself shrinking in his chair, shrinking….shrinking…until his feet no longer touched the floor, until his head no longer rose above the backrest. He imagined Clare’s curves growing even huger before his eyes…Ashley’s arms and legs lengthening, Patricia’s hips and thighs widening and thickening, and Katie’s already-fat ass getting even fatter, plumper. 

He was able to absorb so little of the information that Clare was trying to impart that she made him stay at work late that night, until he got the batch just right. It wasn’t until 11:50 pm that he was finally leaving the batch production room, yawning and rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, as he locked up the factory and headed to his car on the fourth level of the parking deck.


	2. Maia, The Goddess of Growth and Decay

Timothy had parked on the edge of the deck, so as he trudged to his car he was able to see out into the night. It was a clear, crisp evening — there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, and a the ghostly silver of a crescent moon had risen up in the east to compliment the innumerable twinkling of stars that sprinkled the heavens. 

It was the kind of calm, beautiful night that anyone would have enjoyed, but Timothy was exhausted and distracted. He couldn’t help but notice the sign on one of the concrete ceiling slabs that hung down as a warning to large vehicles: “Clearance 6’6.” He immediately began wondering what it would be like to encounter a woman that tall, and he grew week in the knees as he walked under the sign, realizing how huge she would be standing next to him as she looked down at his small form. 

For the second time that day, he felt that he just couldn’t stand it — his giantess fantasy was so strong that it left him literally pining, and he uttered a little whimper as he stumbled into the side of his car. How was he going to continue on like this? He knew how the whole charade would play out: he would go home, plop himself down in his chair in front of his computer, and proceed to jerk himself off to anything new he could find on the internet that depicted larger women dominating smaller men. But he knew it wasn’t enough — he knew that here wasn’t enough out there to satisfy his increasing lust. He’d have to return to old content he’d masturbated to dozens, even hundreds of times. It just…it just wasn’t cutting it anymore. 

“If only,” he said out loud to the starry night as he leaned against his car. “If only I could…I could just…get smaller.” A sudden breeze kicked up behind him in the parking deck, and he became aware of the scent of something sweet…like roses…only muskier, and somehow more fragrant. The cool breeze whipped around his leaning form and danced up under his clothes and through his hair as the luscious scent filled his nostrils. He sighed out at the sky, enjoying the breeze and the smell. “If only,” he murmured to himself again, “If only…”

“But you can, Timothy Springer,” said a deep voluptuous voice from behind him. Timothy uttered a cry and spun around, clutching at his car from behind to keep from toppling over. What he saw shocked and amazed him. Directly behind the “Clearance 6’6” sign stood the hugest woman that he had ever seen. She was so tall that her head was completely obscured by the concrete beams of the ceiling: evidently she was a good deal taller than 6’6. Timothy could only see her from the neck down, and what he saw made his mouth go dry. The woman’s body (for it was clearly a woman) was clothed in an almost see-through green and black dress that seemed to quiver about her and float this way and that on the breeze…almost as if it were the breeze itself. And her body…well, Timothy had been weak in the knees before, but now he absolutely needed the support from his car to remain standing. She was utterly bodacious — she had massive globular breasts, far bigger than any he had ever seen. For her imposing height, her waist was small, but as his eyes went down her figure, he saw that her shape widened and grew aggressively. Her hips were fearsome…they had to be at least 60 inches wide, and probably more. Although he only saw her from the front, he could see the luscious curves of her ass behind her, which did more than enough to support her sensuous bulk. Her legs were muscled and developed, yet undeniably womanly and fleshy. Timothy started hyperventilating as he beheld this startling apparition. 

“Wh-wh-who…wh-who are y-you?” he managed to squeak after a few seconds. 

“Who?” came the deep voice again, unmistakably womanly and full, “Or what?” With that, the figure bowed her head so that she could clear the concrete beam and took a few steps towards Timothy. Now she was standing just about five feet away from him and he could see her face. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He was craning his neck up to look into the most beautiful, profound, and imposing face he had ever seen. It was perfectly proportioned…angelic. And yet there was something about it that made Timothy’s heart quicken in fear. It must have been her eyes…they were deep and dark, almost black…and yet Timothy could swear that with every little motion she made, her eyes sparkled and flashed with different colors. First a dash of deep green here, then a flash of red there. But surely he was imagining that…surely he was imagining all of this. As he looked up at her face, framed by a flowing ocean of silky-straight, jet-black hair, he had only one thought: there was no way that this woman was real. 

Her blood-red lips upturned into a mischievous smile, a smile that didn’t exactly comfort him. 

“You don’t believe in me,” she said, smiling down at him. 

“I—I—uh…” stuttered Timothy. He was completely at a loss for words. The fact is she was right; he didn’t believe in her. He must have been having some kind of hallucination brought on by overwork. 

“Stand up straight,” she commanded him suddenly, issuing forth a long, sharply-nailed finger and curling it upward. “So you can see me better, Timothy.” 

Her voice was impossible to disobey. Without thinking, Timothy did as he was told, and stood up as best he could, facing this…this giantess on shaky knees. Standing before her, he realized that he was looking directly into her breasts. Almost instinctually he glanced down at her feet to get a look at the giant heels that she was certainly wearing. The nerves on his skin buzzed and his mouth got even drier when he found that she wasn’t wearing heels or shoes of any kind. She was barefoot, and her large (and proportional) feet were standing confidently, almost ethereally, upon the concrete. It was so strange; Timothy felt the force of the contrast between the grey concrete and the alabaster flesh of this giant woman who stood before him. It was almost like seeing the contrast between the artificial world of humans and nature itself. With effort he brought his eyes back up to her breasts, and he saw through the gossamer strands of her light and airy dress that her nipples were poking out erect from the middle of the large and darker-brown pigmentation of her areolas. He tried to swallow and collect himself, but his throat was bone dry. 

“Well?” asked the woman, putting her hands on her hips. Her hands, just like the rest of her, were utterly huge, and just like the rest of her, were perfectly proportional to her massive frame. Timothy looked apprehensively at the sharp, blood-red nails that looked very much like claws at the ends of her fingers. Willing himself to do so, he raised his face to meet hers. She stared down her breasts at him imposingly, arching an eyebrow. 

“Feel my breath, little man,” she cooed down at him, and blew a gust of wind directly down her breasts and into his face, ruffling his hair and making his eyes water. That was where that sweet smell was coming from! It was…her breath. 

“Does that feel real to you?” she breathed down at him. He nodded his head. “Come closer…closer,” she said to him gently, but with undeniable authority. Timothy took a step closer, and then another. His face was almost right at her nipples, and all he could see looking forward were her hulking breasts. 

“Feel them,” she ordered. He reached up a shaking hand and touched her left breast, drawing it back suddenly like he had been burned. He didn’t know why, but this woman filled him with fear; he was terrified of angering her. 

“Feel them,” she repeated, the authority hardening in her voice. He reached up again and felt her breast, this time lingering his hand there. They were incredibly plump and squishy, and at the same time they felt dense and substantial. He had never felt anything so perfect. In awe, he reached up his other hand and began to lose himself in kneading his fingers into their twin perfection. 

“How about those, Timothy?” Her voice came from on high and snapped him out of his reverie. He took his hands away and looked up again into her face, which was still smiling down at him impishly. “They feel real enough to you?” 

“Y-yeah…yeah they do,” he said simply. 

“Good!” she said. “Now that’s out of the way, we can get right down to business.”

“B-business?” he asked. “Wh-what kind of…of business?” 

“Why, don’t you know, Timothy?” she said brightly, her smile widening down at him. “Making all your dreams come true.” 

“My…d-dreams?” He was totally thrown for a loop. What was this woman talking about?  
“You were only just now saying,” said the woman, shifting her huge body and starting to walk in long elegant strides around him, “if only…if only.” She looked down at him, and he could swear he saw a sparkle of deep purple flash through her dark eyes. “That sounds like you were dreaming, doesn’t it, Timothy? Fantasizing.” 

“Uhh…” he said, thinking back to his giantess fantasy. “I, uh…yeah. Yeah I was.” 

“Mhmmm, yes you were,” she hummed down at him, circling him slowly in her graceful strides. She suddenly stopped and looked down at him seriously, her deep eyes boring into his so intensely that he wanted to look away, but couldn’t. Her eyes held him captive.

“I’m here to offer you a chance,” she said, “a chance to make your deepest fantasies come true.” 

Timothy gawked at her words for a few moments, unable to say anything in response. The giant woman resumed her slow strides around him, and Timothy couldn’t help but feel a bit like her prey, from the way she was circling him and looking down at him. And…had she just licked her lips a little? He shook his head, not believing what he was hearing.

“My…my fantasies coming true?” he asked incredulously as he shook his head. “No…no, that’s just…that’s impossible. There’s just…there’s just no way!” 

“Oh but Timothy,” said the woman, an irrefutable authority in her voice, “look at me. I’m real, am I not? You’ve felt my breath and touched my flesh, haven’t you?”

“Y-yes…but —”

“And as real as my breath and flesh are to you now,” she continued, “so too can be your nethermost longings.” She gestured to the air with a great hand as she spoke, and with at arm’s movement, Timothy could feel another fragrant breeze come up and quicken, seemingly out of thin air. “All you need to do,” she said, “is tell me what you desire. And I can make it become real. As real as this — ” and she shook her impossibly smooth and silky black hair, and it glittered and sparkled mysteriously in the moonlight. Timothy felt another onrush of powerful rose scent. “And as real as this — ” and she turned around and displayed her massive ass, which gleamed up at him in alabaster white from under her thin dress. She shook it effortlessly in his face, sending undulating ripples and currents though its wide curves. Timothy realized that her ass came nearly up to his shoulders. 

“But — but how?” he suddenly blurted out. “How are you going to do that?” 

She turned back around to face him, smiling again. “It’s simple, little man,” she said. “I can make it happen.” And here she stood up to her full, imposing height, and Timothy saw that her nipples even rose a bit above his eyes as he stood before her. “Because I am Maia, the goddess of growth and decay.” 

“G-goddess?” croaked Timothy. Although he felt like his mind was cracking right now, he couldn’t deny the nagging feeling that was growing in his stomach: she certainly looked and sounded and smelled like what he would imagine a goddess would be. There was no denying all that. Still, though….goddess??

“I—I just…I just…I don’t know,” he panted pathetically after a few moments. “I don’t…know what to believe.” 

“I’ll make it easy for you, little one,” she said, and without hesitation she strode over to the edge of the parking deck, past Timothy’s car. He noticed that the hood of his car came just up to her swaying hips…god she was huge. But what was she doing…?

She had reached out her arm to a small tree branch that hung in close to the parking deck. With a swift motion, she stuck out a long index finger, touched it to the branch, and held it there for a moment. Timothy was baffled…what could she be doing? After a few moments she strode back over, evidently holding something on her finger. 

“What do I have here on my finger, Timothy?” she asked. He bent in closely to look.

“A…a caterpillar.”

“Mmmmm, yes,” she breathed. “Now watch.” And almost immediately, the caterpillar started to crawl and undulate itself up and down rapidly on her finger, almost like it was attempting to escape from something. After a few seconds, however, it stopped moving and went rigid. A hard brown covering started to form over its body, and in a matter of seconds it was completely ensconced in a cocoon. 

“W-what?” gasped Timothy in surprise. 

“Watch,” came the woman’s voice, hard with authority. He obeyed and watched the brown cocoon, which sat on her long finger for a few seconds, and then a few seconds more, with no apparent change. Then suddenly — out burst a butterfly, extending its wings of orange and gold (which gleamed strangely in the moonlight), and alighting off her finger to fly in several liberated laps around her head. She looked down at him, once again arching her eyebrow knowingly as the butterfly orbited her. Timothy was dumbstruck. She extended her finger out again, and immediately the butterfly landed right where it had been before, remaining stationary as it lazily fluttered its wings back and forth like an obedient pet. 

“You see, Timothy?” said the goddess, smiling enigmatically down at him. “The power of growth —” and she turned her glance down at the butterfly on her finger, “—and decay.” Suddenly the butterfly seemed to flatten itself on her finger, and appeared to roll itself up in its own wings. Timothy saw with astonishment that it had reverted back to its cocoon form. He kept watching, and after a few moments the brown hardness of the cocoon snaked out into a lither, green form as he beheld the original caterpillar. But it didn’t stop there — the caterpillar seemed to flail and thrash in its spot, as if trapped, and Timothy could see that it was getting smaller and smaller, and lighter in color. Tinier and tinier it grew, until it curled up into a larva, and then rounded itself into a tiny speck of a white egg, and then…nothing. 

“Wh-what happened to it?” exclaimed Timothy in shock. 

“It’s gone,” said the goddess simply. “Decayed into nothingness.” He looked back up into her eyes, and she shifted her attention from her finger to his face, her eyes once again flashing little hints of red, green, and purple. Her smile remained, and it made Timothy shudder with an odd intensity of feeling. He felt the power of this…this goddess, and it awed him and moved him, and yet…it terrified him to his core. 

“I…I believe you now,” he said lamely, bowing his head, ashamed that he had doubted her. 

“So,” she said, ignoring his pronouncement of faith, “tell me what you desire, Timothy.” 

He paused, not sure where he should start. The silent moments passed by…they hung in the air like fog…and then, suddenly, Timothy was talking and blabbering so fast that he could barely contain himself.

“I want to shrink! But not like all in one go — I want to grow smaller and smaller bit by bit, so that it’s almost not even noticeable at first…I wanna get smaller and smaller in front of all these girls I work with, and my boss, and just…just all women in general. I want to shrink slowly…like…height…I want to get shorter, but not only shorter…like, I want to get smaller too — I want everything to get smaller!! And…and…I—I wanna get smaller not just any times but specific times. This is very important: specific times…and I want those times to be when I get uh, when I get…uh, d-dominated, yeah, that’s it! Dominated in any way, either physically or, uh…verbally. Any time that happens…I wanna shrink a little bit. And it’s uh, it’s, uh…it’ll be like in proportion, you know? Like if I get dominated just a little bit I’ll shrink just a little bit, and if I get dominated a lot I’ll shrink…I’ll shrink a lot. Ok? Ok, do you got that?” 

“I’ve got it Timothy,” said the goddess Maia, smiling down at him warmly. She had put her hands on her hips again, evidently amused and enjoying Timothy’s breathless requests. He wasn’t even close to finishing yet, though. 

“And…” he said after gathering up a deep breath, “And I want a girl…a girlfriend…a girlfriend that’s hot and sexy and understands and…and, uh, appreciates this fetish as much as I do. I want that, goddess…I want it so much!”

“I understand, little Timothy,” said Maia, her smile growing bigger. “Really, I do! Continue on — I know you have more.” 

“Yes…ahhh,” said Timothy, heaving another deep breath and then launching back into his desires, “and I don’t just want to get smaller. That’s not…that’s not enough for me. I’m too far gone!! I need…I want women to grow too!! I want them to grow bigger and bigger even as I grow smaller.”

“Mmmm,” purred Maia, her hands still on her hips. Clearly she especially appreciated this request. Timothy was essentially out of breath now and his throat was completely dry, so he coughed and strained to clear his throat. Maia sidled gracefully over to his retching form and got down on her knees, snaking a big, luscious arm around his back and squeezing his shoulder with her strong hand. He felt the weight of her warm arm on his back and shuddered at how pleasantly strong the odor of roses was now that she was so close to him. He noticed that, even as she was on her knees, the top of her great head rose all the way to his chin. She squeezed him again with her arm, beckoning him to finish. 

“One more,” she intoned, glancing slightly up at him from her kneeling position. He felt the strange and mysterious power of her voice, a deep earthy resonance, and he grew afraid again. “You have one more request, Timothy. Tell me.” 

“Ahh…y-yes…yes…I want…I want women to get sexier too. I mean, they’ll be sexier wh-when they’re taller than me, b-but I want them to…to get just sexier in general. Like I want their, uh, their breasts to get bigger and their legs to get longer and their butts to get bigger and their lips to get plumper and their voices to get richer and their hips to get —”

“I understand,” chuckled Maia, standing up again to her imposing height, “what you mean, Timothy. Beautification. You want women to grow sexier and more beautiful. So they come to look so far above you in every way that they look like me.” She finished this statement with a knowing wink down at him, flipping her ethereal hair as she stuck out her great hips in a show of erotic power. 

“Y-yes. Yes, exactly,” said Timothy, finding it hard to argue with her words. 

“Well, that all sounds just dandy, Timothy,” said the goddess cheerfully. “And I think you’ll find all four of your desires hashed out exactly as you said them right here on this parchment.” With a flourish, she snapped her fingers and a piece of paper seemingly appeared out of thin air and fluttered lazily down to Timothy, who caught it out of the air. He read it over quickly, hurriedly, glossing over words and phrases here and there. It had all four of the main points, and that was all that mattered to him: he’d shrink, he’d get a sexy girlfriend who was into his giantess fetish, women would grow, and they’d also get sexier and more beautiful. That was it…that was all that mattered to him. Still though, this parchment…this document…he looked up at Maia flabbergasted. 

“How did —?” he started to ask, but he realized from her sly grin that she wasn’t going to tell him. It didn’t really concern him, anyways. What was important was getting these things that were written down on the parchment to happen.

“O-ok!” he said, doing his best to look up into her striking eyes. “I’m…I’m ready! Where do I, uh…where do I sign?” 

The goddess blinked down at him slowly. She was still smiling down at him, but there was something behind it that Timothy couldn’t quite place. Something mysterious lurked there behind her red lips…behind her black eyes…something dark. But he was growing impatient — all of these things could happen! If only she would let him sign the contract. 

“Timothy,” said the goddess carefully and deliberately, “shouldn’t you read the whole thing before you sign it?” 

“I—I did! I read the whole thing,” lied Timothy. “It looks great to me!” 

“Mhmm,” hummed Maia. She clicked her tongue at him and waited a few heavy moments before she spoke. “It’s important that you understand, Timothy,” she said seriously, “that if your dreams are going to come true, you have to accept all the consequences, both positive and negative, that come along with them.”

“I…I get it! I understand!” he replied energetically and a little too quickly. He was letting his impatience and desperation show, but at this point he didn’t care. He was totally transported by the idea of having his giantess dreams come true, and would stop at nothing to get them fulfilled. It was pure torture, having this contract right in front of his face, drawn up by an unimaginably sexy and powerful goddess who was standing before him with that strange smile on her face…almost taunting him. 

“Let me sign it!” he blurted out. “I want it to happen! I want all of it to happen! Let me do it! Let me do it!! Please!!!”

Maia kept standing there, looking down on him with that strange smile on her face. What was she doing?? He felt anger boil white hot in his belly at the prospect of her mocking and tormenting him with all his fantasies on the brink of becoming reality. He was about to say something in an outburst of anger when, thankfully (and no doubt by her own design), the goddess spoke. Her voice was merry and pregnant with excitement, and yet also edged with some kind of sharp foreboding. Timothy didn’t care to notice, however — his mind was on one thing only. 

“So, Timothy Springer,” Maia’s voice rang out, echoing surreally through the concrete of the parking deck and out into the cool air of the night, “you agree to all the terms of this contract, do you not?”

“Yes!” he responded energetically. 

“And you agree to accept all the consequences — both good and bad — of having all your fantasies come true. Is this correct?” 

“Yes!” 

“And you understand, Timothy, that once you sign this contract, you cannot un-sign it? You cannot go back. Do you understand?” 

“Yes!!” He felt a twinge of something in the back of his brain, but he brushed it aside, his heart beating and his blood pumping in anticipation. 

The goddess looked down at him intensely for a moment longer, her eyes once again holding his captive. Then she blinked and smiled merrily and clapped her big hands together once. The sharp sound echoed all around them like a distant gunshot, and Timothy was thrilled to see his full name, Timothy George Springer, etched as if by magic at the bottom of the parchment. And just like that, the document burst into purple flames and was gone. Timothy felt a strange lurch in his stomach — it reminded him strangely of how he felt sometimes going down an elevator, and then everything was silent.

He looked around the parking garage and was shocked to find himself completely alone. The goddess had vanished. He looked down at his empty hands breathlessly, the blood pounding through his temples. Had it all been a dream? Impossible…it had just happened…she…the goddess…Maia — was just there before. For a terrible moment he felt utterly insane, and was convinced that he had just suffered from a hallucination, but suddenly another breeze kicked up, seemingly from nowhere, and whipped around him. It smelled intensely of roses. Timothy grew warm inside as he felt the jolly red color begin to blush in his cheeks. His mouth broke into a smile and he laughed out loud. Of course it had been real! And she…the goddess — Maia — had conjured that breeze to remind him to trust her. She was a goddess after all! She had done all that stuff to the caterpillar…her eyes had changed color…she was just — just real!! 

“Haha!” he laughed ecstatically into the night as he skipped to his car. “A goddess! A goddess!?!” He could barely contain his energy. His body was positively buzzing with adrenaline. He opened his car door and slid into the seat. He noticed the difference immediately: the steering wheel was a little higher than usual. The car seat felt a little deeper and plusher around his body. And his feet! His feet couldn’t quite reach the brake and gas pedals. None of these things had changed since he got out of his car this morning — it was him! He had changed!! He had…actually shrunk!!

“Ahhh!” he yelled in his car. “Yesss!!” His ecstasy was momentarily coupled by confusion, though — why had he shrunk? Nothing had happened to him yet. No one at work had teased him or humiliated him or dominated him. So why…why had he clearly shrunk? He thought for a moment in the car, and then he realized the truth. Of course! That’s what it was: him agreeing to the document! The shrinking was triggered by him being dominated! And signing that document was kind of like the ultimate submission, right? Submission to his giantess fantasies. He smiled to himself in the car, appreciating the goddess’s clever joke on him. With barely contained gusto, he readjusted his carseat so that he could reach the brakes and gas, lowered the steering wheel so that he could steer comfortably, and sped off down the concrete ramps and out of the parking complex. He was anxious, almost breathless, to get home and measure himself. 

Sure enough, when he got home, everything around him looked a little bigger. The sofa sat a little higher. The kitchen counter was at the middle of his stomach instead of his bellybutton…he noticed with sheer delight how everything looked just a little different. He rummaged through one of his drawers in the kitchen until he found the measuring tape and pencil that he was looking for. He stood up against the nearest wall, taking care to stand as straight as he could, and drew a line in pencil where the top of his head reached. Then he stepped back and measured up from the floor, going slowly so as to ensure accuracy and increase his excitement. Four feet, five feet…five foot two, five foot four…five foot six. FIVE FOOT SIX. He had shrunk two inches already.


	3. Wishes Come True

“So I said to him,” said Clare to Ashley the following morning, “if you don’t turn me around on this bed and fuck me like it’s your last night on Earth, I’m going out to the club to find someone who will.” 

“No!” said Ashley dramatically. “You did not say that to him!”

“Sure did,” said Clare nonchalantly. “Anyway, what’s he gonna do? Leave me? Haha, please. The old bastard’s wrapped around my little finger. And it wouldn’t even matter if he was the regional manager of a weapons manufacturer instead of Fizzy…it wouldn’t matter how much power he seemed to have in the outside world. Because I know. I know who really calls the shots.”

“Damn!” said Ashley, shaking her head in admiration. “You just lay down the law, don’t you?” 

“It’s what I do,” said Clare, flipping her long red hair. “Especially when I have to because I have subpar, incompetent employees like Timmy who are always…” and she was about to say “late” because, as usual, she had been eyeing the clock, waiting until it ticked past nine so she could berate Timothy for showing up his usual five or ten minutes late. But she hadn’t finished her sentence this morning, because, right at the stroke of nine, in walked Timothy in a fresh-pressed shirt, beaming at the two women.

“Morning, Ashley! G’morning, boss!” he said brightly as he headed over to his desk. Clare and Ashley stared after him. 

“Wellll!” said Clare after a few moments, “on time this morning, I see! Good on you, Springer!” 

“Thanks!” said Timothy, smiling widely. “I got some good sleep last night.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Clare, secretly a bit disappointed that she couldn’t begin the day belittling him. Ashley, however, wasn’t really listening to the conversation. She was staring hard at Timothy. 

“I finally got that batch right last night,” Timothy said to Clare. “It took me almost until midnight, but I finally got it.” 

“I appreciate the dedication, Springer,” said Clare. “Just, try and see if we can keep that up today, ok?” 

“You got it, boss,” said Timothy happily. He had turned to devote his attention to a stack of papers on his desk when he felt Ashley’s presence directly behind him. He turned in his chair and looked up from his seating position. Ashley was standing directly in front of him, looking down at his body with a strange look on her face. 

“Uh, hi Ashley,” said Timothy. “Anything wrong?” He felt a little twinge in his brain that seemed to reverberate down into his chest. He had shrunk, yes, but surely she couldn’t tell…? And yet there she was, staring at him like that. His heart started to beat in his chest faster and faster with excitement. 

“No, nothing’s wrong,” said Ashley as she continued to stare down at him curiously. “Nothing’s….wrong…..” and her voice trailed off as her eyes still studying him.

“Well, ok then,” said Timothy, and turned back to the stack of papers. Ashley stood rooted to her spot for another moment or two, and then she snapped her fingers as if she had just remembered something. 

“Oh, right! I almost forgot. Timmy, could you show me again how much phosphoric acid you were using yesterday? I know it was the wrong amount but I was just curious what the amount was…I actually thought it made the batch taste a little…tropical or something. Might be an interesting idea to pitch at the next board meeting for a new flavor.”

“Uhhhh, sure,” said Timothy, caught off guard that Ashley thought one of his mistakes could actually prove useful. He stood up and made to move towards the chemical shelf. 

“Aha!” cried Ashley as soon as he’d stood up. “I knew it!” 

“Knew…knew what, Ashley?” How could she have caught on so quickly? His heart was racing and he could already feel the blood descending into his cock. 

“You shrunk!” she blurted out. “You’re no taller than I am!” And she was right — standing there next to each other, their eyes were almost exactly even. And…could it be…Ashley seemed like she might actually be half an inch taller. Her loud voice had caught Clare’s attention, who immediately walked over to investigate.

“Holy…shit!” she exclaimed. “Ashley! You’re right! He’s shrunk!!” In her three-inch heels, Clare’s head rose two inches above Timothy’s. He was looking straight forward into the top of her mouth. Shivers of pleasure ran down his spine as he soaked up the presence of his two female co-workers, one a hair taller than him already, and the other already looking down on him. 

“I uh…I, don’t know, how…that’s possible,” he said haltingly in response. He wasn’t going to tell them about what had happened last night; he wanted it all to happen organically. 

“Well I don’t know either — but it happened!” said Clare with great energy. She seemed to be enjoying this new development. She sidled up her body close to Timothy’s and stood up to her full height, measuring how high his head came up to her. “Look at this!” she said excitedly to Ashley, “he only comes up to my eyes! Timmy! You…you lost like a couple inches at least!” 

Timothy was about to form some kind of halfhearted, concocted response, when Ashely interrupted. “Or,” she said impressively, “he was always this short, and we’re just now noticing it.” 

“B-but…no, that’s just…no!” said Timothy, confused at her faulty reasoning. “That’s not true!” 

“Says who?” said Ashley, smiling mischievously, “the short guy?” Timothy felt a tiny little lurch in his posture. Was that him shrinking again? His blood was pounding in his ears from arousal as he imagined what it was going to be like to get even smaller in front of them. But Ashley wasn’t finished. 

“You said you had a good night’s sleep last night…well, I gotta say, last night I slept better than I have in…in years. And I woke up this morning feeling fresher than I have in a long, long time. And I think I was noticing things about my posture as I drove here today. I think I was slouching before; I don’t think I was holding my shoulders right. And my whole upper body in general…I don’t think I was letting myself, uh, you know…open up. It’s probably just years of bad habit; for for some reason this morning I feel like I’ve been standing a little taller, a little stronger.”

“Of course you feel taller this morning!” laughed Clare, pointing at Timothy. “It’s because runty Springer over here has shrunk!” Timothy leaned up against his desk as he felt the slightest little lurch again in his posture. He was breathing hard…at this rate, he was going to be three feet tall by the end of the day! The thought distracted him so much that he allowed his legs to spread apart naturally as he leaned his back against his desk, exposing the tent of his erection for the two women to see. 

“And…and he’s got a boner!” choked Clare, pointing down at his pants and almost shrieking with manic delight. 

“Holy shit you’re right,” said Ashley, hardly seeming to believe her eyes. She looked slightly down at Timothy. “Timmy…Timmy, are you…are you turned on by us being taller than you?” 

He was so aroused that he couldn’t answer her — all he could do was lean even more heavily against his desk as red blotchy color dotted his neck and cheeks. 

“Oh my god he is,” said Clare in a deadpan voice. “He’s totally turned on by it. Holy smokes Springer, I never thought about it, but you know, when youthink about it, it makes total sense, doesn’t it?” 

“What do you…what do you mean?” Timothy managed to ask. 

“Well come on, it isn’t complicated,” she said, bending herself down a little so that she looked him directly in the eyes. “You’re a beta guy, Timmy — we’ve all known that for a while, haven’t we Ashley?”

“Totally,” laughed Ashley. 

“And well, what do beta guys do, Timmy?” 

“I don’t…I don’t know,” he said, unsure of where she was going, but anticipating it deliciously nonetheless. 

“They follow the bigger animals, Timmy. They can’t lead anywhere because they don’t know where to go. So they follow the bigger, smarter, stronger animals. And…well I’m just gonna be honest Timmy, that’s what you do here. You’re not as smart as I am, or Ashley, or Patricia, or Katie. And you’re not as quick on your feet as any of us are…you’re not as clever…and you don’t really have the same…strength of personality, shall we say. You just, kinda, exist here, doing a mediocre job. Sound about right?” 

“Sounds about right to me,” said Ashley, who was chuckling even while she watched to make sure that Clare wasn’t cutting too deep. She really did seem to be laying it on him thicker than usual this morning…and yet…Ashley didn’t care as much as she expected herself to. 

Timothy was just about bursting in his pants. His face was beet-red. “So,” finished Clare, smiling down at him as she brushed his chin with her finger, “it makes total sense that you’re shorter than us now. You’re mentally inferior — why shouldn’t you be physically inferior too?” 

It was all too much for Timothy who came in his pants as he collapsed in his chair. He had definitely felt it that time — the shrinking, undoubtedly from Clare and her vicious teasing. 

“Timmy?” asked Clare upon seeing him collapse. “Are you…uh, are you ok? I was just having a little fun, you know.” Clare did this all the time. She would tease and insult him, and then she would take it back when she felt like she had gone too far. It was a technique of manipulation that usually bothered him and made him feel used and powerless, but now he couldn’t deny that it was literally causing him to shrink. 

“I know Clare,” he panted, crossing his legs to hide his cum stain, “I know you’re just…just playing around.”

“Uh, right,” said Clare. An awkward few moments passed between the three of them before she broke the silence. “Ummmm, ok, Ash, wanna come with me? We need to get those items set before nine thirty.” As the two of them unceremoniously left Timothy panting in his chair, he could hear Clare whisper to Ashley on the way out, “Did I say too much? Did I push him too far?” But then they were gone and he couldn’t hear any more. 

He sat in his chair with his eyes closed for a minute or so, enjoying the afterglow of his orgasm. This was going to be fantastic, he thought to himself. Ashley was already a little taller than him, and Clare was taller than him as well in her heels. And how much had he shrunk that last time when Clare had really twisted the knife? He thought briefly about her strong wording…she always teased him, but it usually wasn’t that…biting. He had probably frustrated her yesterday by messing up the recipe over and over. Either way, he didn’t care. Maia had been right — everything that he had so desperately wanted for so long was now finally coming true. His eyes still closed, he smiled at the ceiling in ecstasy. 

A minute or so later, his eyes were still closed when he heard footsteps in the hallway. Multiple pairs…he knew who it was…they always traveled in the factory as a pair. A moment later he opened his eyes to Patricia and Katie. They were both standing right in front of him, looking positively fresh and full of life. 

“Hello,” said Patricia, smiling at him. 

“We heard you shrunk,” said Katie. 

Timothy took a second or two longer than usual to respond. Although this duo had never struck him as particularly bad-looking (especially Katie, who was quite cute), he was caught off guard by just…how…good they looked this morning. How fresh…was this his beautification dream coming true already? Or was it all just a psychosomatic manifestation in his head? Either way, he stumbled over his response. 

“Uhh…haha, yeah, ummm, I guess. Yeah…did Clare tell you?”

“Stand up!” said Patricia, “let’s see for ourselves!” 

“Ahhhh,” said Timothy, not wanting to blatantly reveal the fact that he had just cum in his pants, “I should actually probably get started working. I don’t want Clare to, uh, you know…be on my case again today.” 

“He’s totally shrunk,” said Katie excitedly to Patricia, “and he doesn’t wanna stand up because he’s afraid that we’re taller than he is!” 

“What? No!” he said, with a little more certainty than he felt he could have, “No — I just…I’m a little shorter than Ashley now, ok? I don’t know what’s going on…maybe she did some stretches last night or something…like, maybe I’ve been slouching lately…”

“Well, nothing new there — you never really did have the best posture,” teased Patricia. A slight tingle played around in the bottom of Timothy’s stomach. Was that another tiny shrink? His external words hid his true feelings: he was absolutely elated at the prospect of comparing with the two girls, but he didn’t want them to see his cum stain and tease him even more…he felt that this would accelerate his shrinking process, and he really didn’t want to rush anything. Maia had actually made his dreams come true; shrinking like this was a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence and he wanted to savor it as much as possible. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Katie impatiently, reaching down to pull him up, “come on, Timmy, let’s see how you measure up.” 

“No — wait!” he said, and as he put his hands up to rebuff Katie’s advances, he glanced down at his crotch to see how obvious his cum stain was. It wasn’t really that bad, actually. Just a few dark speckles of moisture…they wouldn’t really be able to see anything. His resistance weakened as Katie reached for him. 

“Come on,” enjoined Patricia, also reaching down with Katie. The two women grabbed him by either arm and pulled him up. Timothy felt his limp body obey the strength of their twin tugs, and he couldn’t help but notice how easily they pulled him up. Had they always been this strong? Or was it an effect of Maia’s? Timothy didn’t really care, and as the girls lugged him to his feet he chuckled and smiled. It was happening…it was really happening.

“Gosh, ok, ok you guys!” he laughed at the floor as they brought him to his feet. He stumbled around for a few paces in their grasp. 

“Come on, Timmy, stand up straight!” said Patricia. He felt Katie’s grip tighten on his upper arm. If he played around too much, they would figure out that he enjoyed this, and then it wouldn’t be fun anymore. He stood up straight and looked at his coworkers. He was still taller, but not by much. Maybe an inch? Maybe a little more? He wasn’t sure, but even facing these two in this way, these two who had always been significantly shorter than him, was sheer joy for him. If he hadn’t had an orgasm in the past five minutes, he would have been hard again.

Katie’s eyes widened. “It’s…it’s true!” she blurted out. “Timmy! You…really have shrunk!” Her eyes were searching, puzzled, and utterly fascinated. It was like she was looking at a new species, at something she had never seen before. Without even realizing it, she reached out her hand and grasped his shoulder, squeezing it and testing it for size, as if to reassure herself that what she was seeing was real. 

“But I’m still taller than you two!” said Timothy, smiling and puffing out his chest. He was trying to act as normally as possible. 

“Barely,” said Patricia. She also reached out and gasped Timothy’s other shoulder in the same way that Katie was, and squeezed. “He hasn’t just gotten shorter,” she said to Katie as she felt and clasped his shoulder, “he’s, like, actually gotten smaller too.”

“Yeah, like, all over,” agreed Katie as she pressed and kneaded. She moved to his ribs, poking her fleshy finger in between his bones. It was true — he had definitely lost some muscle mass, and when Katie poked her finger in it actually went right between a couple of his ribs, making him jump.

“Ahhh! Katie that tickles!” he laughed, bouncing back on his feet, stumbling backward into his chair. The two girls steadied him, and for a few moments all three of them were just standing there: Katie and Patricia staring in fascination and Timothy barely able to suppress a grin. 

“Timmy!” said Katie after the few moments had passed, “what’s happening? What happened to you?” Unlike Clare, who had immediately used his shrunken size as a pretext for merciless teasing, Katie seemed a bit more concerned. Still, though, behind her concern, he could see an unmistakable twinkle in her eye that had sparkled for a moment when she dug her finger into his ribs. 

“Uhhhh I have no idea,” he lied, unable to keep from smiling a little.

“Clare was right,” Patricia said to Katie as her eyes studied his face, “he does enjoy it.”

“Well that’s just weird,” said Katie, stepping back a little, as if to survey the situation from a different perspective. “There’s something very strange going on.” 

“Look, you two,” said Timothy, feeling like he had to jump in and prevent any more detective work, “I don’t see what the big deal is, ok? I get a little shorter and all of a sudden everyone’s getting all dramatic and saying I’m sick or that there’s something wrong or who knows what…” He trailed off, all of a sudden feeling quite intimidated by the two women — he wasn’t going to be able to talk them out of their scrutiny. In fact, he realized that the more he talked, the more suspicious everything probably seemed. He had to make everything seem normal.

“All I know,” he concluded, “is that I’m still taller than both of you, so…yeah, I’ve got that going for me.” He finished off his statement with another chuckle. Both women just stood there, unmoved by his words, looking at him. Their eyes seemed to bore holes in his body, and he suddenly sat down, trying to prevent any further inspection. 

Katie shifted her stance, cocking her large hips to the side as she folded her arms across her chest. She had always been curvy, but her hips and breasts just looked…bigger. Patricia likewise shifted her stance, putting her hands on her hips. Both girls looked like they weren’t having it, and they regarded him silently for a few more seconds before Patricia finally spoke.   
“Well,” she said, raising her eyebrows at him, “if all you’re going for is being taller than a couple of shorties like us…you’re not aiming very high, are you?”

“But no surprises there, huh, Trish?” said Katie, sticking her tongue into the inside of her cheek. Her concern seemed to have evaporated when Timothy sat down, and, standing there with her hips cocked to the side, she seemed to join him in his lighthearted approach to the situation. “Well, we better leave Mr. It’s No Big Deal to his work, huh?” 

“Guess so,” said Patricia, and the two turned to leave. “Oh, and Timmy,” she added, “if you find yourself struggling today, please don’t try and power through it alone, ok? It makes more work for us when you fall behind. Just let one of us know and we can help you out, alright?” 

“Y-yeah, sure, ok Patricia,” said Timothy, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh come on Timmy, don’t roll your eyes at her!” said Katie, a bit indignantly, “she’s just trying to help you.”

“Oh…I just — alright, sorry,” he said sheepishly. He was a bit caught-off guard by her reaction; he was so absorbed in the excitement of what was happening that he had forgotten his manners. Katie nodded at him, accepting his apology with a raised eyebrow, and then turned to leave, Patricia following in her wake. The two of them were whispering to each other as they left the room, but Timothy wasn’t trying to hear what they were saying. He was too busy gawking at Katie’s backside. It looked huge. She had always had a deliciously plump ass that twitched and undulated in all the right ways as she walked, but he had never noticed it as intensely as he was now. As she left the room, it bobbed and weaved incredibly with each step, almost like it was floating on disturbed waters. He also noticed that Patricia, who had never had much of an ass, seemed to be sporting a little more in her “trunk” as well, and though it didn’t move anything like Katie’s did, Timothy was sure that her pants looked a little tighter in back than they had been the previous day. 

The two women left whispering, with Katie glancing back at him briefly before they went into the hallway. She caught him staring at her, and he immediately turned in his chair and grabbed a stack of papers, pretending to sift through them. She had seen him watching her; he was sure of it. He heard their footsteps disappear down the hallway and he was alone once more. A huge grin stitched itself across his face as he balled up his hands in elation. 

“Yesssss!” he whispered to himself. “Yes! Yes! Yessssss!” This was all going so well! He could hardly believe it — it was all actually coming true! He thought back to Maia and the previous night, and how utterly beautiful she was. Was she watching him now? Of course she was — she was a goddess, right?? She could probably see everything that was going on. What had he done to get so lucky?? As he sat in his chair, musing blissfully over his situation, he gradually arrived at the conclusion that the goddess had paid him a visit because she had been watching him his whole life and had decided, after watching him struggle and toil with his unrequited desires, that he deserved to have them fulfilled. 

‘This is what you deserve, Timothy,’ he said to himself. ‘After all these years of feeling like a freak, of seeing everyone else just coasting through life and having normal sex and normal love lives…seeing them all happy and satisfied while you were alone and miserable with your impossible fantasies…well…look at everything now.” He felt vindicated; he felt that finally, the universe was paying him the proper attention. He couldn’t help but wonder when he was going to get that girlfriend who understood him — there was so much to look forward to! Thinking back to the goddess, he felt a great emotional welling-up inside himself, and he suddenly pulled his chair forward to his desk and shut his eyes tightly as he clasped both of his hands together in prayer. 

“Thank you goddess!” he whispered, hoping that she could hear him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!” He stayed like this for a minute or so, positively worshipping Maia as he praised her name over and over. 

“Timmy!” crackled Clare’s voice over the intercom. Panic momentarily shot through him as his prayer was interrupted. “You heard Patricia, right? If youhave any issues today I want you to go straight to her or Katie, understand? I don’t want a repeat of yesterday’s shenanigans, ok?” 

“O-ok Clare,” he said, fumbling around on his desk and pressing the intercom button. “Got it.” 

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. Timothy was eager to try and do as best a job as he could, because he knew that if he had Clare or Katie or whoever having to correct his performance, he would get off to it and shrink down even further. Although this is exactly what he wanted, he knew that he would get carried away and make himself shrink faster than he wanted to. This spell, or magic, or whatever it was, was the most delicious thing that had ever happened to him, and he wanted to relish it slowly.

He was proud of himself for handling this crazy situation with this kind of maturity and poise. As he worked away at his desk, he imagined that Maia was watching him with approval, admiring his determination not to take her gift and power for granted. 

‘She probably realizes,’ he said to himself as he worked diligently, ‘that she picked the right guy to visit. I’m not going to abuse her power — oh no! I’m going to treat it with the respect…and the, umm….the reverence (there, that’s the word!) that it deserves.’ He worked on at a faster pace than he had ever worked before. He was doing the equations correctly; he mixed the ingredients properly; he made sure that everything was at the right temperature; he didn’t go overboard on the phosphoric acid; he ensured that there wasn’t too much carbonation in each batch. In short, Timothy had the most productive day at Fizzy Pop that he had ever had before. All day, he worked uninterrupted…there were only a few times when he heard footsteps in the hallway. They hadn’t been Clare’s, because he could hear her heels clicking far away before he saw her. He had caught Ashley peering around the doorframe at him, but when they made eye contact, she hadn’t tired to hide herself — she simply kept staring at him intently, as if trying to understand what was going on. He had given her a little awkward wave, but she hadn’t waved back. She had just kept staring at him for another few moments before she went away. 

‘She clearly knows something’s up,’ he thought to himself. ‘Katie too…those two are pretty sharp. Gotta be extra careful around them. Nothing I can’t handle, though.’ As five o’clock came around, he surveyed his work and cracked his fingers. A full day’s work! And he didn’t even have to stay late! And even though the girls might have been whispering amongst themselves and asking questions, no one knew what was going on. He did though — he knew, and as he gathered his things to leave, he felt more in charge, more in control, more power over his life than he had ever felt before. 

“Good job today, Springer,” came Clare’s voice suddenly from the doorway. Timothy spun around. Clare was leaning against the doorframe, her high heels crossed over each other, looking sexy in her short, shiny, form-fitting black dress. 

“Uhh, thanks!” he said brightly as he gathered his things. 

“You didn’t even have to ask Katie or Trish for help, huh?” continued Clare. 

“Um, nope! Nope, not today!” he said, approaching her with his briefcase. As he neared the door Clare stood up straight. She certainly did seem tall. In fact, as he stood in front of her, he could see that his eyes only came up to her mouth…if that…maybe it was only up to the bottom of her lip. 

“That’s good, Springer,” she said mildly, “that’s really good. Maybe tomorrow you can go even faster.” 

“F-faster?” he stuttered. He didn’t really see how that was possible. After all, today was the most productive he had been at any job at any point in time in his life. And Clare wanted him to…work faster? 

“Yeah, faster,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “You know, when Ashley, Katie, and Patricia were batch mixers they got to the point where they were putting out twice as much as you did today.” 

“T-twice as much?”

“Yep, twice as much,” she said matter-of-factly. “It’s because of their habits, Springer. They got into the habit of being productive, and you know, they just got faster and faster with time. Maybe, with some extra dedication and practice, you can get to where they were in a few month’s time.” 

“A few-a few months?” he stammered. He felt confused, and momentarily forgot how happy he was. He was distracted by the other girls’ productivity, and by how much he had apparently overestimated his own work. 

“Yes, a few months,” said Clare, her hands still on her hips. “A good work ethic takes time to build, you know. You can’t just have one good day and expect me to be tripping over myself to congratulate you.”

N-no, no, of course not,” agreed Timothy. He couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed and let down by Clare’s reaction to his hard work. Yes, it had just been one day, but…but…he had maybe expected her to be a little more…something. She could see the discontent in his face, and she took a step forward. Yes, he was certain…she had to be at least three inches taller than him now…and probably a little bit more. He was definitely looking at the bottom of her lower lip. Her breasts (which looked more impressive than usual packed into that shiny black dress) were even with his shoulders. She bent down and looked at him straight in the face. 

“I’m sorry for teasing you this morning, Timmy,” she said up-close, “but really, there was something to what I was saying, and your attitude now proves it. You really do need to develop better work habits, habits that your female co-workers have already established and maintained. The fact that you’re a little miffed right now that I’m not praising you more for one day of average work just shows how far you have to go.”

Timothy had been looking into her eyes, but hearing these words he was forced to look down at her feet. They went straight to his core — he knew she was right. 

“I need you to develop some grit, Timmy,” continued Clare, standing up to her full height. “I need you to try and produce just like you did today, every day. I need you to show me some strength of personality and character, alright?” 

He didn’t respond immediately; he was still staring at her high heels. He felt a little lurch in his stomach again — was that him shrinking? No, it couldn’t be; he wasn’t even really enjoying this exchange. Clare reached out her hand and put a manicured finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at her. 

“Alright?” she repeated, staring at him intently. 

“A-alright,” he said. 

“Good.” She nodded her head smartly at him and turned to leave, her ass making noises against her tight dress with each step. “Oh, and Timmy?” she said, turning around in the doorway. 

“Yes?”

“I think I’d go see a doctor if I were you. You’ve definitely gotten smaller. And skinnier too.”

“Y-yeah, yeah, I think I need to get myself checked out,” he said, scratching the back of his head. 

“Like, I don’t mean to be rude, Timmy, but you were never, uh…how should I say it…the buffest guy out there, you know? But…yeah, something’s going on, and it’s not just the fact that you’re shorter. You’re…just…uh, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re…just, shrimpier.” 

“Yeah…yeah I got it, Clare,” said Timothy, a little testily. He could feel that little something in his stomach again, and he knew it was him shrinking again. But he wanted to enjoy it, and this exchange with Clare wasn’t really that enjoyable. He felt more annoyed than anything. 

She put her hands up. “Just trying to help,” she said, and then walked away, her heels clacking and echoing off the hallway walls. Timothy stood there in place a few moments, breathing hard. He was sure he had felt himself shrinking there…why hadn’t he enjoyed it? The truth was that he had been enjoying the feeling of control he felt he had over the situation, and Clare had caught him off-guard with her critique of his performance. He resented this brief abdication of control, even though it meant that he had gotten even smaller. Clare’s honest and straightforward words had been more humiliating than he even realized, and even though the biting truth of her words turned him on, he didn’t necessarily enjoy the feeling. 

“No matter!” he said out loud after a few moments. He could feel his mind clearing, and the joy of his present situation returned like the sun behind a cloud. He was eager to get home and do one thing: measure himself again, to see how small he had gotten. 

‘And I won’t just measure my height this time,’ he said to himself as he walked quickly to his car in the parking deck, ‘I’ll measure everything…waist, hips, shoulders, arms, legs…everything! Gotta keep track of the shrinking!’ By the time he reached his car he was positively giddy from excitement. He had taken care to park in exactly the same place as he had the previous day, and before getting in his car he took a few moments to look around and remember the exchange he had had with the goddess less than 24 hours before. As he looked around at the bare concrete, and at the “Clearance 6’6” sign and the tree branch that she had plucked the caterpillar from, he couldn’t stifle an audible sigh of pleasure that seemed to come up from the middle of his breast. As if in response, a light pleasant breeze suddenly kicked up and blew around his face, rumpling his hair. Although it was not nearly as strong as it had been the previous night, he could smell it: just a hint of roses. It was her, he knew. It was her kissing him with her breath. He closed his eyes and sighed again, feeling, for all he was worth, like he was the luckiest man in the world.

As he winded down the concrete labyrinths, his anticipation grew. He had been forced to readjust both his car seat the steering again, and this provided concrete proof that he had, in fact, shrunk again. But by how much?? He couldn’t wait to get home to find out — as he turned out the parking deck, his mind was awash in excitement over what he was going to do when he got home. He’d make a height chart that documented his shrinking as it happened each day…he’d keep detailed records of everything…how it happened, when it happened…and how much he shrank each time. He’s start to carry a tape measure with him wherever he went, and…he suddenly realized that he didn’t own a scale.

‘No problem,’ he thought to himself as he drove down the road, going faster than normal in his eager anticipation, ‘I’ll just stop by the store and get one.’ He briefly wondered where people bought scales. They weren’t the kind of thing that you bought everyday, so…he was slowing down for a red light, and he briefly looked down at his phone to check to see where he could go to get one…

*BAM*

Evidently he had not slowed quickly enough, because he had just rear-ended the car in front of him. It was’t a bad accident by any means — he had only been going a couple miles per hour, but even at that speed, he lurched forward in the driver’s seat as his car came to a sudden stop. 

“Oh fuck!” he yelled in surprise. The suddenness of the impact, even at that low speed, was jarring to say the least. Immediately, he turned off his car, put it in “park,” and stumbled out, hoping to god that the car he hit wasn’t driven by some big angry man. He had a couple seconds to survey the car he hit and the damage: a black car, sporty…he could see that it had a bumper sticker in the corner of a…was that some kind of skull? His heart sank — this person was gonna be so pissed at him and he was gonna have to…but at that moment his mind stopped thinking, because the driver’s side to the car he hit opened, and he saw a long leg emerge, wrapped halfway up to the knee in what looked like platform gothic boots. Timothy’s breath caught in his chest. The long leg made contact with the ground and…Timothy could see the swell of the thigh as the leg flexed and brought out…the rest of the person…a woman…a young woman. With a mane of black hair that billowed around her pale face — a beautiful face, with pale, rounded cheeks, a sharp chin, lush, full lips with black lipstick, and large deep-set eyes that were highlighted by heavy dark make-up. Timothy barely had time to notice everything: the proud way she held up her magnificent head that exposed her long, elegant, snow-white throat, her form-fitting white t-shirt that did little to hide her impressive breasts, and her low-cut jean shorts that barely contained the curves of her hips and ass and only went about a third of the way down her notable thighs.

Timothy noticed all of these things in a flash as he stumbled towards her, but more than anything he noticed the expression on her face. She looked…hungry. 

“I’m-I’m so sorry, ma’m!” he stammered as he bumbled over to her, “I didn’t—I wasn’t, uh — I wasn’t looking where — I thought I braked, but I — I’m so sorry…” he trailed off lamely, as he had reached her and didn’t know what else to say. Standing in front of her now, he noticed one thing more: she was tall. Wearing her platform boots, his head came up to her chin…he had to avert his eyes from hers…she was looking at him through her dark make-up with such an odd and inscrutable intensity that he had to look away, and he did…straight forward into the tops of her breasts. 

“A little distracted driving, huh?” she said wryly, putting a hand on her hip. Timothy saw that her nails were painted black and were very sharp…they reminded him of Maia’s nails. The young woman heaved a sigh.

“Well, little man, what’s your name?” 

“I’m-I’m T-timothy,” he stuttered. This woman was so beautiful, and so big, that it was as much as he could manage just to get those words out. 

“Well Timothy,” she said, striding slowly and confidently by him to survey the damage to her car, “there just seems to be a little bit of a dent here. Thankfully you weren’t going too fast.”

“Yes, yes, ah, I’m so sorry, ma’m…about that…yes, I can see the dent there. Well, I’ll just — I’ll just give you my, uh…my insurance information here —” and he fumbled in his back pocket for his wallet. The woman had strode back around Timothy and had leaned herself up against her car, crossing her boots as she crossed her arms across her large chest, looking down on him with something of an amused expression on her face. 

“Timothy,” she said, as if savoring the taste of his name in her mouth, “how old are you, might I ask?” 

“How…how old? I’m 28,” he said, still fumbling for his wallet. 

“28?” she said, chuckling, “you don’t look a day over 21.” 

“Well, I’m 28, and I have my license here to prove it,” he said, feeling irritated at the little lurch in his stomach that accompanied her teasing. He wanted to have control over when he shrank and when he didn’t, and besides, he needed to get home to measure himself…after he bought a scale of course. 

The woman waved her hand nonchalantly, as if dismissing his offer, but then she seemed to reconsider.

“Actually, yeah,” she said, grinning as she stuck her tongue into the side of her cheek, “can I see your license? I don’t believe you.” 

“What? Uhhh, sure, here you go,” he said, handing it up to her. He was having trouble finding his insurance card. “Just…uh, wait a minute, if you don’t mind? I’m sorry, ma’m, I’m, uh…I’ve just gotta find my insurance card.”

She waved her hand again casually. “Take your time,” she said as she looked at his driver’s license. She studied it for a moment, looking at the license, then looking at him, then back at the license, then back at him again.

“Welll,” she said, clearly enjoying herself, “it does say your name is “Timothy” here, and it does say you were born 28 years ago…” She looked at him with a grin. “But why should I trust what it says about those things when it’s clearly wrong about everything else?” 

“What? What do you mean?” asked Timothy, still distracted by his missing insurance card. 

“There’s no way,” said the woman slowly, “that you’re 5’8, 165.” Timothy stopped what he was doing and looked up at the woman, feeling something freeze inside him. 

“There’s no way,” she repeated, smiling down at him, “because I know exactly how tall I am in these boots, and if you were 5’8, you’d come up to about right here,” she said, indicating to the middle of her nose with a flat hand. Timothy noticed then how big her hands were…and how long her fingers were. 

“How…how tall are you?” he asked, his mouth increasingly dry. 

“5’10,” she said casually, flipping her full black hair. Then she looked down on him with wide eyes. “But in these boots I’m 6’2.” 

“6’2?” he repeated, feeling weak in the knees. The number sounded so big to him, and yet, there she was, clearly real, right in front of him.

“Yep,” she said, clearly proud of her stature. “But you, Timothy, you aren’t even close to 5’8.” She cocked her head to the side briefly. “I’d say you’re about 5’4, 130 pounds soaking wet.” 

He didn’t know what to say, and for a couple moments he just stood there gawking at her big, curvy frame as she continued to regard him amusedly with her arms crossed. 

“Well, I…uh, I just — I’ve gotten a little smaller since, uh…since I got that license,” he managed to say simply. 

“Yes,” she laughed, “I can see that.” A few more moments passed. Timothy was beginning to feel naked in front of this large woman, and although he could feel himself getting hard under her stare, he felt like he was losing control of this whole situation. He wanted to get home and start making his growth chart. He bent down and looked through his wallet again, finally finding his insurance card. He held it out to her. 

“Well, here’s my, uh, information…why don’t you, uh…” But she cut him off, holding up her hand as she came off from leaning on her car and stood up straight, her hands still folded across her chest. 

“I don’t care about that,” she said. 

“You don’t? Uh…well, thanks…” he said, turning to leave. 

“Oh no you don’t,” she laughed, stopping him in his tracks. “I don’t care about that, but you don’t just get to walk away from me like that.” He turned around, not understanding. She was looking at him with that same hungry look he had seen from her initially, and it went straight to his cock…it made him feel even smaller. 

“I’m not doing anything later on this evening,” she said, her dark eyes twinkling at him. “Why don’t we grab dinner? Your treat to me and we’ll call it even, how about that?” 

“Uhh, like…a date?” Timothy couldn’t believe his ears. s

“Yeah,” she said coolly, “like a date.” 

“O-ok.” 

“How about at The Black Pig?” she asked smoothly, enjoying his slight wince at her mention of one of the most expensive restaurants in town. “You can afford that, can’t you, Timothy? You’re a young professional with some spending money, right?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, that sounds good,” he said, blushing at his inability to hide how expensive the restaurant sounded to him. 

“Ok, Timothy, see you there…about 7?” 

“7…sounds good.”

“And we’re doing an honor code thing here, ok? You better not stand me up, little guy, or I’ll come looking for you,” she said, winking at him. 

“No — I’ll…I’ll be there,” he said. She nodded, grinning, and then turned to get back in her car, treating Timothy to a healthy view of one of the most impressive asses he had ever seen. While it was true that this woman was large, tall, and curvy in nearly every way, Timothy had not expected her ass to be…like that. If he had gawked at Katie’s large ass earlier that day, he was positively flabbergasted at this one…it was almost cartoonish, although the natural way it rippled and swayed behind her told him that it was as natural as every other part of her. Her…her name! He hadn’t gotten her name!

“E-excuse me?” he called out as she got in her car, “what’s — what’s your name?” 

She turned back around and gave him another smile that seemed to indicate…some kind of appetite. With her billowing black hair, her sharp black nails, her black lips, her heavy make-up, and her dark eyes…all juxtaposed with her pale white skin and long, exquisite neck, she almost looked…like a vampire. 

“Beatrice,” she said, that strange smile still on her lips. Then she got in her car and sped away through the light, which was just turning red again. Timothy walked back to his car in a daze, turned it back on, and suddenly realized that he had to slightly re-adjust his seat again. He did so almost without thinking. He looked at the clock. 5:25. How far was the Black Pig from his house? Fifteen minutes? He had enough time to pop over to the store, buy a scale, and then go home and measure himself before…before he went on this…date…with Beatrice. He suddenly smacked his head into the steering wheel as the reality of the situation became clear to him. That was her!! She was exactly what he asked for!! 

“Ha!!!” he laughed out loud in his car. “Hahaha, oh my god, Timothy, you’re just a fucking idiot!” Most of that exchange, he had been trying to find his insurance card, and the whole time she was just leaning there against her car, arms folded, watching him squirm and struggle with that smile on her face. Oh my god…her face…she was….gorgeous. “Holy shit!” he shouted, out loud again as he put his car into “drive” and waited for the green light. “Holy shit!!!” Maia was working faster than he could have ever believed possible — it hadn’t even been an entire day yet, and already he had shrunk around four inches, lost a bunch of weight, and literally crashed into the girl of his dreams. 

It was all so perfect!! He racked his brain as he drove to the store, trying to remember every detail of Beatrice’s body. He was kicking himself for not catching on to the whole thing sooner, but he was far too thrilled to be too put-out with himself. Her ass…it was just unbelievable! A lot of girls these days had fat asses, Katie by far being the least of them, but he had never, ever quite seen a backside like Beatrice’s. It just…it fit perfectly in between everything else she had. It didn’t look artificially huge, because she had such thick, curvy, womanly thighs. But it didn’t disappear into her midsection like it did on so many other women, because her waist was actually pretty small…maybe even his size…although maybe it was an inch or so bigger than his at this point…his brain was positively buzzing with excitement as he navigated his way through the department store, finally finding the scale he was looking for. It was late afternoon and the store was busy. Timothy couldn’t help but notice how…plain everyone looked to him initially. He had Beatrice on his mind, and next to her, everyone else just looked drab. Except, well, there was a mother in line in front of him, who was holding her one-year old in one arm as she waited her turn; she couldn’t have been older than Timothy, and yet…well, she looked pretty damn fine, despite the presence of her child. The arm that she was holding the child in looked impressively developed, and substantial and fleshy at the same time. 

‘Motherhood must be hard work,’ Timothy briefly mused as his eyes went over her large hips, her solid legs, and her big breasts. ‘It makes sense that…well, that all that activity would…pay off physically.’ He glanced briefly down at his own form, and Clare’s word “shrimpy,” immediately jumped to mind. He suddenly realized that this mother in front of him (maybe even younger than him, actually, by the looks of it) was a couple inches taller and probably at least 30 pounds heavier than he was. And she…just looked good. Even the teenaged cashier, who looked distant and preoccupied and was chewing gum, looked…fresh. She was about his height…and just the way she moved, the precision of her gestures (even though she was just scanning the barcode on the scale) made him feel slightly weak. But Beatrice…Beatrice! His mind snapped back to her, and remained fixated on her as he drove home. It was 6:00 now, just enough time to measure himself, take a quick shower, and then put on some nice clothes before his literal “dream date.” 

He quickly got out his tape measure and stood up against the wall. He stood well under the mark from the previous night — that much was certain. Once again, he was careful to stand up straight to get as precise a measurement as possible. He marked himself down, turned around, and took a step backward to measure. Four feet, four foot 6, five feet…one, two, three…and a half. He was FIVE FOOT THREE…AND A HALF. Shorter than Patricia…shorter than Katie. He briefly imagined what they would say tomorrow, and how they react. But more than anything, he thought about Beatrice. She was almost a foot — a foot taller than him in those platform boots of hers. And even then, those were only four-inch heels. Just by the looks of her, Timothy imagined that she had some higher platforms or heels in her wardrobe. He was about to go on a date with someone who for all intents and purposes was a foot taller than him. His cock was instantly erect, and he positively tore the scale out of the box, fumbled to install the batteries, and then, after a few minutes, finally stood on the scale to get his weight. 

119\. 

119???

He weighed less than 120 pounds?? This was incredible! He couldn’t wait any longer. He collapsed on the floor and started to jerk himself off, all the while thinking about Beatrice and her huge, luscious curves, and how much, at 5’10, she probably weighed. 170? 180?? Surely almost 60 pounds more than he did…it wasn’t very long before he was spilling his seed all over his work clothes. 

A few minutes later her was in the shower…he had to hurry; in his hasty lust he had burned through the time. It was 6:40 by the time he stepped out of the shower. He hurried through his closet, trying to find anything that would fit him…but nothing really did. Everything was far too big around the waist, far too long in the legs, and far too wide on his shoulders. He was going to look ridiculous tonight, but at this point, Timothy didn’t really even care. He was too over-the-moon for meeting Beatrice again. He finally settled for some kakis that he managed to roll up, a collared golf shirt that hung on him loosely, and loafers that looked not quite but almost like clown shoes on his shrunken feet.

He drove to the restaurant with difficulty, and eventually he decided to take his shoes off before he got himself into another accident. He pulled into the restaurant parking lot and, after a few minutes of searching, managed to find a parking spot. The Black Pig was one of the fanciest joints in town, and popular with the young and well-to-do crowd, a crowd that Timothy most certainly was not a member of. This fact could not have been more obvious as he stumbled out of his car in his oversized shoes and clothes and walked unsteadily to the door. A few patrons stopped to look at him, and he even noticed two young, expensively well-dressed, and attractive women pointing at him and whispering as he went in through the front door. 

He went past the loud crowd of people in front, almost all of them taller than him (and far better dressed), to the hostess’s desk, where a young woman with trendy dyed white hair was standing. In her heels she was a good half-foot taller than him at least, and she regarded him curiously, as if he was someone who was lost and in need of directions. 

“Can I…help you sir?” she asked. 

“Umm…yes…uh…table for two…uh, yes. Table for two, please.” 

“Do you have a reservation, Mr…..?” 

“S-springer…and, uh…no, actually.” He felt something drop off in his intestines. Had he messed up the date already? Was he supposed to have made a reservation? 

“Hmmm, well, we’re pretty booked up here, Mr. Springer,” said the hostess, clicking her tongue…except…well…” she looked down at him, that same curious expression on her face. “What’s your first name, Mr. Springer?”

“Uhh…Timmy,” he said, then shook his head, not understanding how he could’ve misspoke. “Timothy, Timothy.” 

The hostess’s face lit up. “Timothy? Oh yes, Mr. Springer, your date is actually already at her table. Follow me, please.”

He followed the hostess through the throngs of professional, laughing, fancy people, noticing how the swell of her ass swayed in her steel-grey dress. A moment later, the crowd seemed to open up, and the hostess was indicating to a candle-lit table where Beatrice sat, smiling, her curves barely contained by a fancy blood-red dress. Timothy instinctively looked down and saw that she was wearing heels…tall heels. 

“Hello, Timothy,” she said, slowly and majestically rising out of her chair, holding out her arms. “Long time no see.”


	4. Timothy's New Girlfriend

“H-hello Beatrice,” Timothy managed to stutter as he reached out in kind to embrace her. As her form approached him, Timothy could see how tall she actually was in these heels. He was looking straight into the tops of her breasts, which were rapidly approaching him. Before he knew it, his face was squished up against them as they embraced. He could feel the firm plushness of her figure as they hugged, and, since her hips were about even with the middle of his chest, he found himself accidentally wrapping his arms around her giant ass…or, at least, he was trying to wrap his arms around it. Beatrice’s ass was so big that he couldn’t even wrap his arms around it from the front. During their embrace, which went on for a second or two longer than Timothy expected it to, he could feel Beatrice squeezing him tightly and…was she…smelling his hair?? It didn’t really matter…he was sitting down on a date at The Black Pig with the hottest girl he had ever seen, who towered more than a foot above him, and who was looking at him with that same dominant, hungry expression that she had when she first laid eyes on him. 

As they each took their respective seats on either side of the table, Timothy couldn’t help but notice some of the other patrons staring at them. Apparently it was a novelty for them to see such a mismatched couple. Timothy didn’t care — in fact, their stares made him even more turned on than he was before. 

“I went ahead and ordered an appetizer for the table,” said Beatrice, smiling as she sat down. “Do you like seafood, Timothy?

“Uh…yeah!”

“Good. I’m looking forward to sampling their carpaccio of diver scallops. They’ve won some awards, apparently.” 

“Y-yeah,” said Timothy, still wrapping his head around the fact that he was actually talking to Beatrice, “yeah…this place, uh…this place is pretty fancy, huh?”

Beatrice looked around nonchalantly and shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, it’s fancy enough.” She looked around a little more and then turned her head back to Timothy. Under the candlelight, her dark make-up and black lipstick looked positively smoky and mesmerizing. She was smirking at him.

“Couldn’t find any clothes that fit you, cowboy?” 

“Uhhh…yeah. I, uhh —” began Timothy, not quite sure how to begin telling Beatrice that he was shrinking because he had made a pact with a gorgeous goddess named Maia the day before, and that, in fact, Beatrice herself was part of this pact. Timothy briefly wondered whether she had any idea…or if perhaps she knew of Maia. But he realized that he had trailed off in the conversation, and Beatrice was sitting there, her full arms on the table, waiting expectantly with that keen smile on her face. 

“I—I’m shrinking,” he said simply. Beatrice raised her eyebrows, her eyes going a bit wide. 

“Really?!” she breathed out, fascinated. Timothy was waiting for her to ask “how?” but she didn’t — she just looked at him with a calm, smoldering stare for a few moments, before she spoke again. 

“Well that’s great to hear, Timothy. I like me some small little guys.” She took a drink from her water glass as the appetizer arrived. Beatrice wasted no time in brandishing her fork and spearing one of the scallops (which were not small) and plopping the whole thing into her mouth. She chewed on it slowly, her eyes never leaving Timothy. 

“Y-you do?” he stuttered. Of course, he knew that she liked small men — he knew way more than she did about what was going on, surely! Or did he…? He shook the questions out of his head. They didn’t matter now; what mattered was how hot Beatrice looked in that fancy red dress, how sexy her mouth looked as she chewed her food. After a few silent moments, she spoke again. She didn’t really seem to speak in the normal cadence of conversation that Timothy was used to. Instead of directly answering the words that he said, she simply heard them, tossed them around in her head, and answered whenever she felt like it. 

“Yes,” she breathed in a low, soft voice. “I love little guys like you, Timothy. And I gotta say” — and Timothy suddenly felt her foot in his lap — “that when I saw you waddling in here with those ridiculous oversized clothes, my pussy started getting wet.” No one else saw her foot in his lap, thanks to the floor-length tablecloths, but Timothy couldn’t hide the look of rapture on his face as Beatrice footed around his crotch. He was hard as a rock now. 

Her foot still playing with him, Beatrice casually reached over and stabbed another scallop and stuck it in her mouth. “Hmmm,” she said suddenly, to no one in particular, “a little dry.” She seemed focused on the food for a moment, but suddenly she turned back to Timothy after she swallowed it down. 

“How about you, little guy?” she asked. “Do you like big tall girls like me?” 

“Ohhh yes!” said Timothy excitedly. “Oh yes! I, uh — I —”

“You really like tall women, huh?” she finished for him, sticking her tongue into the side of her mouth so that it tented outward. God, she had a long tongue, Timothy realized. “Well,” Beatrice continued, leaning back in her seat and putting her hands behind her head, “that’s good news for you, isn’t it Timothy? Because, you know, as small as you are, I wouldn’t say that there are that many women who are shorter than you.” She was smiling down at him, and Timothy could tell that she was enjoying this teasing. Her foot was still working insistently in his crotch.

“Well,” she said, catching herself, “maybe there are a fair number of girls who are your height or shorter — what’s your height, Timothy?”

“Uh, five three and a half.”

Beatrice chuckled knowingly. “Oh boy, you really are into this whole shrinking thing, aren’t you?”

Timothy flushed bashfully. “Y-yes.”

Beatrice laughed, not entirely in a nice way, either. “Haha, oh my god, what a little sub!” she laughed with wide eyes. She looked at him, almost as if he wasn’t a person, almost as if she couldn’t believe that what she was seeing and hearing was real. Her foot worked faster in his crotch and Timothy felt himself sink a little bit in his chair. Had he shrunk again? 

“But anyway — like I was saying,” said Beatrice, recovering herself, “even though there are still lots of girls shorter than you, I know there aren’t a lot of a lot of them — who are adults, at least — who are…smaller than you.” She suddenly sat forward and caught up one of Timothy’s hands in her own. He looked down and saw his shrunken hand engulfed in the grip of her larger, stronger, more powerful hand — her sharp pointed black nails looked positively fearsome next to his flesh. Although he was definitely turned on by her touch, Timothy couldn’t help but shudder a little uneasily at the sight of her predatory hand next to his. 

“I mean, look at that Timothy,” she said matter-of-factly, “just look at how my hand just swallows yours up.” She made an open palm in front of his face. “Come on, Timothy, let’s compare hands!” He obliged, holding his up to hers, and he was amazed to see that his fingers only came up about half way to hers. She clawed her fingers down, in a motion of engulfing him, and growled at him, shaking her head back and forth at him playfully. 

“Grrrrrr,” she said aggressively, “you’re just a tiny little thing, aren’t you? And look at that little bashful blush in those little cheeks! You’re submissive to the core, little guy — I can tell. It’s all I can do not to pounce on you right now.” 

Timothy was on the verge of cumming as Beatrice talked dirty to him, and he was actually beginning to hump her foot, which was now feverishly working his crotch. At the last moment, however, she suddenly took her foot away, leaving him gasping and panting in the restaurant. Several patrons had turned in their seats and were looking around, clearly wondering what was going on. Beatrice didn’t pay them any mind, though — she couldn’t have cared less. 

“Uh-oh!” she said mockingly, her eyebrow arching. “Guess who’s not allowed to cum yet?” Timothy suddenly noticed that their waiter was standing there at the table, looking very uncomfortable as he wrung his hands, waiting to ask them if they were ready to order. Evidently Beatrice didn’t care who heard her sensual teasing, and it was all Timothy could do to keep from cumming right then and there.

“Are you…um…are you all ready to order?” asked the waiter, “Or should I come back again in a few minutes?” 

“No, we’re ready,” said Beatrice promptly, even though Timothy had not even read a single word of his menu. She held up her own menu. “I will be having the lamb chops tonight, medium rare. Can you substitute the pan-seared broccolini for the polenta, please? And for this little guy,” and she indicated to Timothy with her open palm, “he’ll just be having the garden salad tonight.” 

“Just…the salad?” the waiter asked.

“Yes,” said Beatrice, smiling at Timothy. “He’s got a small little stomach, and he can’t handle a whole lot of food at once.” She laughed at the waiter. “But, you know, that shouldn’t be too surprising, right? I mean, gosh — just look at him in that big shirt. Did you see him when he walked in here, with his pants all rolled up? He’s tiny.”

The waiter gave a nervous laugh, writing down the rest of the order. Beatrice wasn’t done. 

“He’s 28 years old, you know? Can you believe that? If I didn’t know better I’d say he was an underdeveloped teenager!” She laughed out loud again, and Timothy could feel the color come into his face. Beatrice’s teasing was definitely a turn-on, but it was still embarrassing, especially out here in public like this. 

“Ahhh, yes, ma’m,” laughed the waiter nervously again, “Well, uhhh…I’ll just get this order in and your food will be out shortly!” He got away from the table as fast as he could, and Timothy saw that he had gone back to the waiter’s station and was whispering to the other servers, all of whom turned their heads towards their table. 

“How old do you think I am, Timothy?” asked Beatrice, leaning forward on her elbows. Timothy’s attention snapped back to her. 

“Uhhh…” he said, not really having any idea. She was definitely young, but she couldn’t have been that young. Maybe a few years older…or maybe his age…

“Are you…are you 28 too?” ventured Timothy, wondering if it had been a trick question. 

Beatrice’s eyes widened. “You — you think I’m your age??” She sounded incredulous and started laughing again. “Timothy, you’re way off. I’m about to turn 23.”

“W-what?” He couldn’t believe it — she just looked so…comfortable in herself. So poised, so self-assured. He hadn’t come across anyone this young who was so obviously at home in her own skin.

“Yes,” she laughed, “I can see why you’d be so shocked. Most people think I’m much older. Can’t imagine why.” She nonchalantly started surveying the crowd again, and for a full minute or so seemed to not even notice that Timothy was there. He slumped a little in his chair and looked at her, feeling like a small animal as he waited for her attention to return to him. The prospect of starting some kind of new conversation with her seemed impossible at the moment; he was just so in awe of her that he literally felt paralyzed. 

After a minute or two she turned back to him, evidently bored by the people around them. “So, what do you do, Timothy?” 

“I…uh…I work in a soda factory. Th-the…the one close by.”

“Oh, Fizzy Pop?” she asked mildly. 

“Y-yeah, yeah, that’s the one.” 

“How ordinary,” she remarked drily. She looked down at him across the table. “How much do you make?”

He winced inside, feeling embarrassed at what he was about to say. “Uh…uh…$32,000.” 

Beatrice made a little “o” with her mouth and blew a thin stream of air out, eliciting a low whistle. She smiled again.

“So…you were lying to me when you said that you could afford this place?” 

“I…no!” he said, protesting. He didn’t want her to feel like he had lied to her. “I just—I just, uh…I saw that you were someone special and I uh…felt bad about the little, uh…the little fender bender and wanted to…to make it up to you!” 

Beatrice chuckled. “What a recovery,” she said sarcastically. 

Soon their food came. Beatrice made no bones about wolfing her meal down. Timothy saw her looking straight at him whenever she bit into her meat, and he was sure that she meant for him to see her aggression as…some kind of a symbol. He was hard pretty much all through dinner, despite actually being quite hungry. He didn’t dare ask for any of Beatrice’s meal, so he satisfied himself with what he had. 

In an hour’s time they were standing up to leave. Beatrice assertively took Timothy’s hand in hers, almost pulling him as she led the way out of the restaurant through throngs of young, elegant, well-dressed professionals. Her ass undulated and bucked through her red dress, at the level of Timothy’s chest. It was almost unbelievable, the way that it moved. It distracted him from the fact that his belt was barely able to hold his pants up. Timothy watched her ass, totally entranced, as she led the way out. She blended in quite well — in fact, she was notable in the crowd, since she was ravishingly beautiful and standing a head above everyone else at 6’4 in her heels. Timothy, on the other hand, really did look like a young teenager who had lost his way in a crowd of adults. Even though he was turned on by the whole prospect of his own humiliation and submission in this environment, he couldn’t help but feel relieved when they were free of the restaurant and breathed in the cool nighttime air. 

“Why don’t you lead me back to your place, big boy,” said Beatrice, smiling down her breasts at him. 

“Uhh, ok,” said Timothy, barely able to contain his lust.

“Don’t worry,” said Beatrice teasingly as she walked off to her car, “I won’t follow you too closely.” 

Timothy laughed at her joke and got into his car, delighting in the fact that he once again had to adjust everything slightly so that he could reach. Fifteen minutes later he was pulling into his driveway, with Beatrice following closely behind.

“So, this is your place, huh?” said Beatrice, looking around as they walked inside.

“Y-yep,” said Timothy, realizing just how ordinary and boring everything looked. 

“Just what I imagined,” said Beatrice, walking around, “what someone would live in who makes $32,000 a year.” She was walking around the kitchen, and then into the living room, when she turned to Timothy. “Do you even have a mortgage on this place? Or are you…like, renting to own or something?” 

“N-no, I have a mortgage,” said Timothy. “I had some, uh…some family money so I was able to make a downpayment.” 

“Aha, the old family money,” laughed Beatrice, coming up to the wall where Timothy had been measuring himself. “Wait, what’s this?” she asked, noticing the pencil marks on the wall. She stood up to them, turned to Timothy, then looked back at them, and then turned to him again. A huge grin was plastered across her face. 

“Oh my god,” she said, her voice almost quivering with excitement, “is this what I think it is?” 

“Wh-what, is what what you think it is?” asked Timothy, walking timidly over. 

“These lines on the wall!” she said, pointing at them with a long, clawed finger. “You’ve been measuring yourself as you’ve been shrinking, haven’t you?”

“Uh, y-yeah,” said Timothy, turned on because of her enthusiasm and embarrassed at the same time. 

“Hahaha!” she laughed, putting her big hand where each mark was, in descending order. “Holy shit, Timothy, you used to be almost as tall as I am…youknow, without heels.”

“Y-yeah, 5’8.” 

“How long have you been shrinking?” 

“J-just…just since last night.”

“Last night?!” she gasped, looking down at him. “You’ve shrank like five inches since last night!?” She paused, looking down at him. He looked absurd in those clothes, and he looked up at her face, intimidated and feeble yet undeniably, impossibly turned on. Beatrice was filled with lust. She bent down and yanked off Timothy’s shirt, which was not a difficult task, since it hung so loosely on his shrunken shoulders. 

“Take off your pants, little man,” she breathed down into his ear, punctuating her command by lashing his earlobe with her tongue. Timothy was breathing so hard now he was almost hyperventilating. In no time he was completely naked. Beatrice likewise slipped and slithered her curves out of her red dress — it took her a lot longer to get her clothes off, because she literally had to push and pull her clothes off, so tightly they clung to her body. 

The two stood before each other, with Beatrice still in her heels. She put her hands on her enormously curvy hips and cocked her head to the side, smirking down on him. He was pretty much eye-level with her nipples now, and he saw they they stuck out in arousal, emerging from the dark circles of her areolas. Beatrice’s skin was strikingly white — almost an ivory, which made the darkness of her areolas that much more conspicuous, and the darkness of her make-up and black lipstick all the more arresting. 

Beatrice just stood there for a few silent moments, breathing deeply and purposefully as she looked down at Timothy with that smirk on her face. Her expression was so incredibly arousing to Timothy, but even in that moment he couldn’t quite escape the feeling that her smile wasn’t just a smirk — it was a sneer. But he didn’t have time to wonder and analyze her facial expressions for too long, because she had stepped forward and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, forcing him to stumble backward. She led him in this way all the way across the room to the sofa, where she aggressively shoved him down. 

“You’ve got a nice cock there, Timothy,” she purred lustily as she knelt in front of him, prying his legs apart with ease so that his erect dick was completely exposed. She looked up at him wryly. “How big did it used to be?” 

“Uh…uh, like seven inches.”

“Hmmm, doesn’t look too far off from what it is now,” murmured Beatrice, measuring it against her palm. “Maybe your cock isn’t shrinking like the rest of you.”

“Maybe…m-maybe not,” said Timothy, wondering whether this was true. But once again, he didn’t have time to pay attention to anything else, because with a snarl Beatrice had taken him in her mouth and was slowly, passionately swallowing down his length. She twisted and wove her head down, down, down, until she reached his base, her fat lips kissing the flesh of his abdomen where his cock began. She looked up into his eyes, with his dick all the way down her throat, and shook her head back and forth lustily, never taking her eyes from his. Timothy gasped and heaved, choked and convulsed, as he was overcome with arousal at Beatrice’s expert stimulation. She hadn’t just swallowed his cock easily like a snack — she was using that long tongue of hers to play with him, tease him, torment him. It felt like his cock was engulfed in some kind of fleshy, rotating tornado, such was the skill of her technique. 

She went all the way back up on his cock, the tips of her lips kissing his peehole, and then just like that, with even more energy, she thrust herself down again on his length, taking him all the way in again with an aggressive, squelching moan. She did this over and over, and after only a minute, Timothy could no longer hold off against her vacuuming cheeks, her tortuously rotating tongue, and the relentless pull of her suckle. He came violently down her throat, flinging his arms about as his eyes rolled back into his head, momentarily losing control of his limbs as his small arms and legs flailed and shook with his orgasm. 

“Rrrrrr!! Mmmmmmm!” moaned Beatrice aggressively, shutting her eyes tightly as she tasted his seed. She took him all the way down as he came, and held him there, swallowing deep in her throat over and over as he shot gob after gob of hot cum into her esophagus. With each hungry swallow she drew his cum straight into her stomach, and she was charmed by the thought of Timothy’ s cum being the perfect compliment to her lamb chops and pan-seared broccolini. 

After about a minute she came up off him, releasing his cock with a loud *pop* as she opened her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out at him and wriggling it lewdly up and down, showing that she had swallowed everything.

“Aaaaaa!” she said, and then she laughed dirtily, putting her big hand down with some force on his small chest. “Haha, wow! That was pretty quick! Not too used to getting head, are you, Timothy?”

“N-no, not really,” he managed to say, breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. “Not like that.” 

“Mmmm, yes, I’ve been told as much,” she said knowingly, and she leaned in close to his face and flung her tongue back and forth at him, mockingly. “Guess my skills are just too much for you, huh, little guy?” 

*flipflapflipflapflipflapflipflapflipflaip* 

Her tongue made rapid, wet sounds as it she shook it at him with incredible speed. Timothy’s eyes almost popped out of his head at this strange, almost unnatural show of power. After a few moments of teasing him like this, Beatrice suddenly pulled herself off him, stood up, and turned around, treating Timothy to a view of her fat luscious ass as she crouched down on her high heels like a stripper, effortlessly bouncing and rebounding her massive cheeks up and down, up and down. It only took a little twitch from her thick hips to get the expanses of her ass moving — after her first motion, gravity seemed to take over, and her backside wobbled up and down as she turned around to shoot him a seething look. 

“How about this Timothy, huh?” she asked huskily as she twerked her ass. “Ever seen a butt like this, little boy?” 

“N-no…no I have not,” he stammered, totally overcome. Even though he had just shot his load down her throat, his cock was not getting soft. If anything, her vicious tongue and her twerking show was making him even harder than he already was. 

“C’mon twerp,” she said, moving backwards so that her undulating ass was now placed directly over his erect length. “Stick it in.” Timothy fumbled as he sat up and started to try and put his dick into her vagina, which was actually starting to drip onto his lap. 

“Not there, you idiot!” said Beatrice forcefully, reaching down behind her and grabbing Timothy’s cock in a painful, vice-like grip. “I want it in my ass.” 

“O-ok,” whimpered Timothy through the pain of her grip. He reached down to do as he was told, but Beatrice had already literally taken matters into her own hands. She stuck his cock up, slithering her ass into his lap as she made circular s-shaped movements down his dick as it went directly into her ass. 

“Aaaaaa, there!” she said triumphantly, and then turned away, with her back to him, as she started to ride him. Timothy’s heart was pounding in his chest now as the sweat began to bead and dot his brow. He had never had anal sex before, and was shocked at how tightly Beatrice’s sphincter was gripping his cock. As she bounced up and down on him, it felt like his dick was being pushed and ground through an almost impossibly tight, fleshy tube that was alive and rippling…and that was exactly what was happening. 

“Oh fuck yeah!” yelled out Beatrice as she ground her ass into him harder and harder. “I can feel your little body under me, Timothy! I can feel my weight crushing you!” She wasn’t wrong — each time she came down on him, he could feel the air literally evacuate his lungs. It was all he could do to keep his oxygen flowing, and he started gasping at the air. 

“I bet my ass alone weighs half as much as you do,” she growled at him, grinding her hips down on him in obscene circles. “Can you take it, little man? Can you take an ass like mine that just dwarfs you? Dominates you? Overpowers you?” With each “dwarf” and “dominate” and “overpower,” she smashed her ass down on his cock, harder and harder each time, the intensity of the intercourse reaching a fever pitch. Timothy’s eyes started to roll back into his head again and a high-pitched whine, completely involuntary, began to dribble forth out of his mouth. He was cumming again, shooting his load deep up Beatrice’s ass as she wiggled her big cheeks up and down, forcing his entire body to undulate in tandem as she wiggled left and right, left and right. 

“Came again, huh?” she snarled, looking around her ass at him with her flashing dark eyes. “Can’t handle my tongue, and can’t handle my ass, huh, tiny boy?” She smashed her ass down on him one final time and suddenly pulled off him and whirled around, standing up as she put her hands on her hips. 

“Pathetic!” she said contemptuously. “That’s just a pathetic showing, Timothy.” He was covered in sweat now, and gasping for air as he tried to answer her. But she kept at it. 

“You lasted for literally one minute in my mouth, and one minute in my ass. How am I supposed to get pleasure from a little sub like you when you can’t even give me more than two minutes before you blow your pitiful little load?” Timothy could definitely feel it now, despite all the other overwhelming sensations he was experiencing…in the bottom of his stomach, it was happening again. He was shrinking. 

She turned around and bent over, prying her ass cheeks wide apart so that he could see straight into her asshole. “See that, Timothy?” she said. “That’s what just dominated you. That’s what you couldn’t handle. That’s what just took your cum.” She moved backwards at him, so that her exposed rectum was now directly in front of his face. She moved her cheeks up and down and to the side with her clawed fingers, as she pretended to make her ass talk. 

“Come on little boy,” she said in a deep voice, pretending to make her ass talk as she moved her cheeks in his face, “is that all you’ve got to give to me? I’m hungry, tiny man! I’m hungrrryyy, and I’m not used to such puny little meals! Give me more, wimp, give me more!!” And just like that she had impaled her ass once again on Timothy’s dick and was riding him into oblivion. Timothy wailed in almost inhuman agony and pleasure, completely overcome with the sensation of Beatrice’s ass. 

Over the next hour, she managed to squeeze two more cumshots out of him. It was her humiliating dirty talk that was her secret weapon. Finally satisfied, she rolled over off Timothy’s dick into a half-sitting half-lying position next to him on the sofa. For his part, Timothy was barely conscious now. His eyes were crossed up inside his head, and he was drooling from his mouth, muttering incoherently. Beatrice was pretty much out of breath too, but she was nowhere near as gone as he was. She looked over at him and smirked. 

“Little bitch,” she said scoffingly, pushing the hair out of her face as she stared up at the ceiling. “You need to build up your stamina, Timothy.” She smiled. “Well, there’s plenty of time for that. I think it’s safe to say we’re dating now, huh?”

“Y-yeah…” Timothy said, coming out of his near-coma. “Y-yeah. Th-that was…that was…amazing Beatrice.” 

“Of course it was,” she said, bringing one of her long clawed fingers to his cheek and tracing his jawline. “I’m gonna teach you to worship me, Timothy. I’m going to become like a goddess to you.” She laughed softly. “And I’m going to teach you how to give me what I want — exactly what I want — anytime i want it. Understand?” 

“Y-yes…I understand,” said Timothy. Even though he had known in advance that Beatrice was going to become his girlfriend, he had never, in all his wildest dreams, imagined an encounter like the one they just had. He loved it…it was the most turned-on he had ever been, and the most he had ever cum with anyone, ever. But at the same time it was almost painfully overwhelming. He had very nearly passed out a few times, and the only reason he hadn’t was because Beatrice had noticed and had purposefully slowed down, to keep him on the edge. He was happy…so happy, yes….and yet…and yet…this isn’t exactly what he had been expecting. 

“You look smaller,” said Beatrice suddenly. “Did you shrink again?” She grabbed his forearm and compared it to hers. He had most certainly shrunk — her arm looked even bigger next to his than it originally had. 

“Look at that!” exclaimed Beatrice excitedly, “look at that, Timothy! My arm’s like twice as wide as yours!” She needled him in the ribs with her claws. “And holy shit, look at your ribs! I can count each one. One, two, three, four five,” she began, counting down his ribs with her sharp fingernail. When she had finished she turned to him, with her mouth open. “Holy fuck, Timothy! You’re fucking puny!” She struggled to her feet, still in her heels. “Stand up!” she ordered suddenly. “Stand up and face your goddess, little man!” With difficulty, Timothy did. He felt his exhausted heart do a backflip and leap into his mouth. He was staring right into the taut, fleshy top of beatrice’s stomach. 

“Oh my god!” she screamed in delight. “You did! You totally shrank again!” She danced around him in ecstasy, almost not believing what she was seeing. Her eyes suddenly caught the pencil marks on the wall, and she grabbed him roughly by the arm as she practically dragged him over. 

“Come on, shorty, let’s get you measured!” Timothy didn’t have time to say or do anything — he was too busy trying to move his little legs to keep up with Beatrice’s long strides as she crossed the living room. She pushed him up against the wall and fetched the tape measure where Timothy had dropped it previously. 

“Let’s see,” she said, almost shivering in anticipation. “Let’s start from the bottom up.” She bent down to the floor and started to slowly and deliberately measure him. She counted the feet out loudly and intentionally in an exaggerated voice, like she would to a child, making eye contact with each foot. 

“One…” she made wide eyes at him…”Two…” she looked at him again and made her eyebrows go up and down…”Three…” she licked her lips at him…”Four…” she opened her mouth in mock surprise as she looked deeply into his eyes…”Four….four….” And she stopped, looked him dead in the eye, and stood up, tossing the tape measure away as she folded her arms across her big breasts. 

“You’re four foot eleven, Timothy,” she said, like she could hardly believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. “You’re…not even five feet tall.” Timothy had no words — he was utterly stunned as he stood there against the wall. He managed to look up at Beatrice, who still had her arms folded across her chest and was looking down at him with wonder in her eyes. Even though there was a clearer difference than ever in their sizes, it was her stare was making him feel truly small. She was looking at him almost like he was some kind of animal…like he…wasn’t even human. 

Beatrice spotted the freshly-purchased scale on the ground close by, and she excitedly went over to it and kicked it along the floor a few times in Timothy’s direction. “How about your weight, shrimp?” she said haughtily. “Why don’t you step on that and see what you’re packing, huh, big boy?” Timothy did, feeling the anticipatory electricity flutter and flash across his skin; he actually had goosebumps now as he stepped onto the scale. The numbers garbled themselves as he felt Beatrice come from behind him and loom over, awaiting the result with just as much eagerness as he was. 

97.2.

Timothy let out a gasp of air as Beatrice whooped and hollered. 

“Ninety seven pounds?!!” she yelled, standing up to her full height as she clutched her midsection. “Ninety seven pounds!?!” A huge well of derisive laughter came bubbling up from her diaphragm. “Timothy, that’s…you’re — you’re like a little kid now! In elementary school!!” 

Timothy was staring at the number, feeling like the bottom had completely dropped out of his stomach. He was so small…so…unimaginably small. He looked down at his hands and feet, his legs and arms, and then looked up at Beatrice, who had her hips cocked to the side as she smirked down on him. She looked positively enormous, so much so that he started back off the scale in an involuntary fear reaction. She laughed down at him. 

“Oh my god, you’re scared of me now!” She stalked towards him threateningly. “Well I guess I’d be afraid of me too, if I were your size.” His back hit the wall. Beatrice suddenly got down on her knees in front of him. She was nearly as tall as he was, even in this position; the top of her head reached his eyes. 

“Now you’re the one speaking down to me,” she laughed, putting her big hands up against the wall on either side of him. Timothy tried to speak in assent, but he could not manage to make any noise. Beatrice laughed knowingly. 

“You know what I think?” she whispered to him, her huge face looking up into his, “I think you shrink any time you have sex. I think I literally just sucked the size right out of you with my mouth and my ass. She opened her mouth wide up at him so that he could see all the way down into her throat. 

“Right down there,” she said, pointing into her mouth and down her throat with her finger. “That’s where it all went. I took it from you, Timothy. I swallowed it all up.” 

Timothy knew that she wasn’t exactly right, but she pretty much had the gist of it. ‘And anyway,’ he thought as he peered down her throat and then shifted to look into her big dark eyes, ‘she’ll find out soon enough.’ It was strange — he was beyond thrilled at everything that had happened so far, and yet, he still wanted to hold onto the real truth of the situation. It gave him some semblance of power still, which he enjoyed having. ‘This way,’ he thought to himself as he watched Beatrice make lewd faces at him, ‘she won’t take it too fast and shrink me down to nothing before I can…before I can really enjoy life at thissize.’ He thought suddenly of Katie at work — holy shit, she was taller than him now…a good deal taller! And Patricia and Ashley too! To say nothing of Clare and her heels….oh boy. Tomorrow was going to be interesting, that was for sure.


	5. Just Another Day at the Office

The next day, Timothy only just managed to drive himself to work. He had made all the adjustments needed so that he could see the road, but he was realizing that he wouldn’t be able to drive for too much longer before his feet wouldn’t be able to reach the pedals. 

‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,’ he mused to himself as he pulled into the parking deck. He had lost another inch last night, a direct result of more of Beatrice’s dirty talk, and he now stood at just under 4’10, and weighed 93 pounds. His new girlfriend had been sure to weigh him in the morning, and she was absolutely gleeful over the fact that he had shrunk again. He was wearing some baggy jeans and an even baggier t-shirt. Beatrice had helped him go through his closet before they went to bed, and she had discovered a box of clothes that Timothy had stored from a relative. The clothes had belonged to one of his nephews, who had outgrown them once he turned 11. For Timothy, however, they were the only clothes that he had that fit him, and even then, they were definitely on the roomy side. He had no choice but to wear his old loafers, which now looked unquestionably like clown shoes as he clopped and stomped his way into his office. But what was he going to do? Show up at work barefoot? There was a professional dress code, after all. 

As he sat down at his desk, he thought of Beatrice back at home. She had been lounging on the sofa as he left, promising him that she’d be there when he got back. She had licked her lips at him hungrily and made hungry animal noises at him as he walked out the door, which caused him to have a full-on erection by the time he reached his car. Even now, sitting in his office, just thinking about Beatrice made him uncontrollably hard. He couldn’t believe his luck — Maia was indeed a goddess — she had come through for him in the most mind-blowing way possible…and that was only the first night he and Beatrice had spent together! Timothy sighed in pleasure, allowing himself to lapse into daydreams of the unimaginable things that awaited him when he returned home. 

A sudden crackle from the intercom had him start out of his daydreams as the unmistakable and business-like voice of Clare came through to him through the static. 

“Good morning, Springer,” her voice said. “You there? You better be there, Springer.”

“Y-yes!” he said excitedly, pushing down the intercom button. “Y-yes, Clare, I’m — I’m here!” 

“Good,” crackled the voice. “Because today’s gonna be a busy day. A really busy day…lots of items on the agenda…lots of things to cover.” Timothy’s heart sank a little as he heard the tell-tale signs of Clare’s authoritarian streak through her voice. He hated it when things got busy like this…it tended to exacerbate her overbearing demeanor. He hoped it didn’t mean that he was going to stay late again. But he quickly chased these thoughts out of his mind as he imagined a naked Beatrice, with her long dark hair, lounging her big, lithe body across his sofa, touching herself as she waited for him to come back home. 

“An emergency order came in from corporate last night,” continued Clare over the intercom. “They want us to come up with an entirely new drink — a totally new product. Fast.” 

‘Oh great, not corporate,’ thought Timothy, fumbling for a notepad. 

“The market’s veering toward healthier drink options, so corporate wants us to adapt with the times,” crackled Clare. “They want us to come up with something that’s still carbonated, still caffeinated, and still sweet-tasting, but that has no more than a quarter of the calories, added sugars, and carbs that are other options do. You’re taking all this down, right, Springer?”

“Yes…yes I am!” called Timothy into the intercom, scribbling down with his other hand. 

“Alright,” said Clare. “I need you on this, Springer. I’m putting my top talent on it, obviously — Ashley and Patricia and Katie will be handling most of the work — but I want to give you a chance to prove yourself, Springer. You had a good day yesterday. Let’s see what happens when I put you in with the A-team, alright?”

“A-alright!” said Timothy, actually excited to be part of the team. 

“Ok. Draw up some ideas. Meeting in Ashley’s office in one hour. Don’t be late.”

An hour later Timothy was plodding down the hallway in his oversized loafers, baggy pants, and baggier t-shirt, his heart fluttering in his chest, as he made his way to Ashley’s office. What were the girls going to say? How were they going to react?? He was positively awash in anticipation, and as he neared the partially-open door to Ashley’s office, he could hear female voices. He had a sudden urge to run. But he caught himself, laughing and shaking his head as he pushed the door open and went in. 

All four women were standing around Ashley’s desk, apparently already deep in discussion. Clare stood out from the rest of the group, since she rose up taller in her heels and was sporting a bright red dress that clung tightly to her curvy body, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. She had her hands on Ashley’s desk and was talking — Ashley, Patricia, and Katie were all standing around her, listening with rapt attention. 

At first, none of them realized that Timothy had walked in. Clare kept talking intently, reaching down to sketch something on a piece of paper, as the other three women all leaned in to get a closer look. In this time, Timothy was able to get a good view of all of them and was totally blown away — they all looked so huge! The first thing he noticed was that Patricia and Katie were obviously taller than him now, and even from across the room, he could see the swerve and weight of Katie’s backside winking at him. Good lord, it looked enormous! Timothy knew that Katie had always had a fat ass, but he could not escape the thought now that her rear end had grown, gotten even rounder, fatter…gotten sexier. Was this part of the beautification that Maia had promised him? 

A quick glance up at the faces of the women confirmed this suspicion. They all just looked…fresher, brighter…just…more alive. Clare had always dressed skimpily, and today was no exception, but Timothy noticed how the usually-modest Ashley was wearing a green form-fitting dress today that showed off some impressive hips. Katie’s cornflower-blue blouse went down to about her mid-ass and did little to hide its voluptuous volume. Even Patricia, who Timothy had never really been attracted to, seemed different today…he noticed how her kakis looked tighter than usual, and betrayed some indisputable shapeliness in her hips, ass, and thighs. Had she always been that thick…? 

All of this flashed through Timothy’s mind in a matter of moments as he walked slowly over to Ashley’s desk, the four women seeming to him to get taller and taller with each step he took towards them. When he was about ten feet away from the desk, Clare looked up and saw him and immediately stopped talking mid-sentence and stared. Ashley, Patricia, and Katie turned their heads in Timothy’s direction to see what Clare was looking at. Ashley took a sharp intake of breath and put her hand over her mouth in shock. Patricia’s mouth hung open. And Katie could not contain herself and let out a high-pitched squeal. 

“Oh my god!” squealed Katie, bringing up her hands to her cheeks. “Oh my god oh my god…Timmy!!” She quickly rounded Ashley’s desk and walked straight up to him, stopping when she was directly in front of him as she stood up to her full height, staring down at him in wonder. 

“You’ve shrunk again!” she practically yelled. 

“Y-yeah Katie…I uh…I have,” stammered Timothy, feeling totally overwhelmed by Katie’s larger presence. 

“Look at this!” she continued, as if he hadn’t even spoken, “your head barely even comes up to my chin!” She extended a flat palm out and placed in on top of his head, measuring his height to hers. There was no denying it — she was definitely a good deal taller now. And such close proximity to Katie’s big, heavy curves was beginning to have an effect of Timothy; he could feel himself growing in his pants. 

“I just…wow, Timothy,” came Ashley’s quiet cautious voice as she joined Katie in standing next to him, her hand still up by her mouth as she looked down on him. From this vantage point, Timothy could see quite clearly that his head did not come up to Ashley’s chin. In fact, staring straight at her, he found that he was looking straight into the tops of her breasts. It was obvious to him now — Ashley’s boobs looked fuller, bigger. Was it just that tight green dress she was wearing? Or was this Maia’s magic? 

“Are you feeling ok?” said Ashley in a worried tone, furrowing her brow down at him. 

“I’m…yeah! I’m fine — feeling fine!” he said enthusiastically, knowing that his happy tone had to sound suspicious to his co-workers. “Never better!” he added, smiling up at Ashley. God, the skin on her face was so…healthy and clear. He glanced right over at Katie and saw her face looking unusually illuminated and lively as well. Was it just the lighting in Ashley’s office? It couldn’t be…

“Have you seen a doctor yet, Springer?” came Clare’s clear and authoritarian voice. She hadn’t budged from her standing spot leaning down on Ashly’s desk as she continued to stare forward at Timothy, her hands splayed out supporting her weight. She didn’t look particularly pleased at this unplanned-for interruption. 

“Ummm…yes!” Timothy decided to lie, since otherwise he either had to tell the truth or pretend that nothing was odd or wrong. He thought that lying about seeing a doctor would shut down Clare’s probing questions and douse any suspicion. “Yes!” he continued, “and he, uh…the doctor said that…uh…that he wasn’t, uh, sure what was going on, but that…uh…that all of my, um, vitals were…were doing well, so that I had…umm…no reason…no reason to worry.” 

Clare narrowed her eyes down at him from across Ashley’s desk as she scrutinized his response, not seeming like she bought this explanation. 

“But…but you’re just shrinking, Timmy!” said Ashley, with some force in her voice. “Surely…surely the doctor would, like…you know…run some tests, or…or send you to a specialist or something, right?” She reached out and grabbed one of his upper arms, letting out a short gasp as she realized how thin it was. “I mean, look at this, Timothy — you’re not just getting shorter…you’re getting thinner…skinnier…”

“Wimpier!” put in Katie, shooting a toothy grin down at Timothy, cocking her hips sexily as she folded her arms across her ample chest. She seemed to be especially enjoying this. 

“Katie, come on!” came Patricia’s chastising voice. “Don’t play around; he could have some kind of serious condition!” Ashley nodded her head in kind, agreeing. Timothy suddenly noticed that the acne on Patricia’s face seemed to have disappeared. 

“But…but I don’t! The doctor said I’m fine,” he said, nervously noticing that Clare seemed to be getting more and more impatient. He really was looking forward to being part of the team today, and he didn’t want to waste more time with all of them gawking at him. “And…and, you know, he’s the one who went to medical school,” he continued, thinking up a couple more lies as he went along, “and anyway, he said that I could just come in to his office every week, just so he could…he could, uh…monitor me and everything…to make sure everything is ok. So there’s…there’s nothing to worry about, ok?” 

Katie’s eyes sparkled downward at him as the smile grew on her face. “See?” she said brightly, indicating to the rest of the group, “he’s fine! He’s just…turning into a little shrimp!” And she winked down at him and Timothy felt that little pull in his stomach, telling him that he had shrunk again, just a tiny little bit, due to Katie’s teasing. 

“You know, I’m as much for teasing and taunting Springer as the next gal,” came Clare’s exasperated voice, “but can we please get back to business? I’m under a lot of pressure from corporate for this new drink idea, and if we can come up with something great I know they’re gonna give me a huge-ass promotion.”

Timothy inwardly rolled his eyes. Of course that was why Clare was so insistent about them staying on-task…of course it had to do with her own personal promotion. Ashley and Katie retuned to their standing places around Ashley’s desk, and Timothy followed them. But as he took his spot in the circle, he saw that Ashley’s desk, which came up to the waist of most of the other women (and a little lower for Clare), came all the way up to the middle of his chest. From his vantage point, he couldn’t see what Clare had drawn on her piece of paper. 

“Ummm…” he said awkwardly, glancing up at Clare for help, “I can’t…uh…I can’t see.” 

“Why are you telling me, Springer?” she answered quickly. “Do you really need me to tell you what to do?” She turned to Ashley. “Ash, is there anything in here for him to stand on?” 

Ashley glanced around her office for a moment and then nodded. “I just emptied my trash yesterday,” she said, walking over to the small trash can in the corner, fetching it, and turning it upside down. “You can stand on this, Timmy.” She placed it upside down on the floor next to him and indicated for him to stand on it. “Just…be careful, ok?” 

“Ok,” he said, feeling slightly ridiculous as he grabbed onto the desk and used it to help him stand up. He felt the energy and intensity of all four women staring at him as he helped himself up. The trash can was around 8 inches high, and looking around at everyone once he was up, he realized that Clare was still a little taller than him. He was about the same height as Ashley…maybe just a smidgen taller…and a couple inches taller than Patricia and Katie. 

“Are you all set, Springer?” said Clare, not bothering at all to hide the irritation in her voice. “Can you see everything clearly now?” 

“Y-yes…yes I can.”

“Ok everyone,” said Clare, breathing out an exaggerated breath of relief, “now that Springer is on our level, we can continue.” She lowered her head back to what she had drawn, which was a series of pie charts. “Ok, now remember ladies…and Timmy…corporate wants low calorie above all other options. Understand? That’s the most important bit — low calorie and low-sugar. That’s where the market’s going, and that’s where we’ve gotta go. Ok?” 

The three women and Timothy nodded their heads. Despite all of his excitement around all his fantasies coming true, Timothy couldn’t deny that he was just…just enjoying this normal, everyday meeting as part of the A-team. He just wanted to feel like he was a part of something at work…like he mattered…like he was making important contributions. 

“And that brings us to the real challenge,” continued Clare, indicating to one of her pie-charts. Timothy took pleasure in leaning in with the other women to scrutinize it. “Anyone can take the sugar and calories out of a soda,” said Clare, “but what we need to find out is how to take out all the sweet stuff…all the calories, and still have a soda that tastes sweet — and not that artificial kind of sweet that you get from all those shitty artificial sweeteners.” She stood up to her full height, looking around at the group. “That’s what Bubble Town did with their new brands, trying to get ahead of the curve…and guess what? No one’s buying them, because they taste like what?” 

“Like ostrich poop,” laughed Katie.

“Exactly,” said Clare. “And so we’ve gotta find a different way to make our drinks taste sweet. And that’s — ” and here she pointed a finger as she scanned over the group, “—where you all come in. I need you three…you four…to get to work on this. It’s our major task now. Are you up to it?” 

“Of course!” said Ashley energetically.

“Yeah!” said Patricia, smiling excitedly.

“Yep!” said Katie with gusto.

Timothy nodded silently, feeling suddenly self-conscious hearing the full and dynamic voices of his co-workers. He felt the reality of their size disparity, and couldn’t help but feel like his voice would sound weak and tiny in comparison. 

“How about it, Springer?” said Clare aggressively, turning on him. “Are you up for it?” 

“Y-yes, yes I am,” he said, stuttering a little bit as he inwardly winced at how small his voice sounded in comparison with everyone else’s. 

“A ringing and confident endorsement from our newest and smallest member!” called out Clare sarcastically, looking down at Timothy across Ashely’s desk as she shook her head. “Make sure he stays on task, please,” she said, turning to Ashley. “And I want a specific report before you leave today about how he did. Ok, Ash?” 

“Sure, Clare,” said Ashley, turning to Timothy and smiling as she extended out a large hand to pat him on the head. “I’m sure our little guy here will do just fine.” Timothy heard Katie exchanging little laughs as Ashley pet him on the head, and he almost couldn’t believe how big her hand felt…it seemed like she could nearly palm his head right now if she wanted to. 

“Well alright,” said Clare, rounding the desk as she headed out the door, “I’ll leave you all to it.” She gave Timothy one more stern look, like she was making sure he knew that she had her eye on him, and then she was gone. A few silent seconds passed by, and Timothy suddenly realized that all three of the remaining women were looking at him…studying him. 

“Ok then!” said Ashley, clapping her hands as she went around to her chair and plopped herself down in it. “Let’s get started! Pull up chairs, everyone!” Patricia and Katie moved to do as they were bid, and Timothy started to step down from the trash can. 

“Not you, Timmy,” said Ashley, seeing him start to move. “I think it’d be easier if you just…uh, if you just sat on the desk here next to me.”

“But…but, uh — I’m sure…I’m sure I could find some chair high enough,” he began to protest, not wanting to feel like the odd man out, so to speak. 

“I don’t think there’s a chair in this building that’s high enough,” laughed Katie as she pulled her chair up to the desk, “unless you’re talking about one of those high chairs in the nursery downstairs.” Patricia joined Katie in giggling at her joke. Ashley rolled her eyes.

“Enough of that, Katie,” she said (even thought she was smiling). “But she’s right, Timmy…just…just come on over here and sit down, ok? We don’t have much time for dilly-dallying.” Timothy sighed and started to do what Ashley said, until he realized that she was actually asking him to crawl across her desk to sit on the edge next to her. He moved to step down off the trash can. He’d walk around the desk and use the trash can to help himself up. 

“What are you doing, Timmy?” came Ashley’s voice, a little exasperated. “Come on — just come over here, ok? We need to get started.” 

“You mean…uh…just…you want me to…uh…”

“Yes, Timmy, come on! Just crawl over here, please,” said Ashley, patting the spot on her desk next to her chair with her hand. “Let’s go!” Timothy obeyed the slightly irritated authority in her voice and got down on his hands and knees and started crawling over across the desk to where Ashley was sitting. It felt absolutely humiliating, crawling like this across her desk, and he could feel his face start to burn red as he heard Patricia and Katie whispering and giggling. 

“Ok!” said Ashley once he was sitting on the desk next to her, his legs dangling off the edge, “let’s spitball some ideas, why don’t we? Go!” 

“Agave!” came Katie’s chipper voice immediately. “We render down agave syrup and add it in small increments to the batch. Keeps the sweetness, but cuts down on the calories.” 

“Hmmm, agave is packed with sugar,” said Ashley, “so I don’t think we can get it down to where the drink retains the sweetness without using too much of an already-sugary ingredient. But I like the idea of rendering it down and reducing it to a concentrate — nice, Katie! Next!” 

“Sugarcane flavor!” piped up Patricia. “Consumers will taste the sugarcane in the drink and their brains will associate the flavor with sugar, even though it’s not actual sugar…just the flavor. That way the drink will taste sweet, but without the calories!” 

“Intriguing!” said Ashley, nodding her head as Katie “oooed,” showing that she was also impressed with Patricia’s idea. “That would involve us getting shipments of raw sugarcane made directly to this plant, though,” continued Ashley thoughtfully as she mused out-loud. “Where is our crop grown right now?” 

“Trinidad and Tobago,” said Katie. 

“Hmmm…Trinidad, huh?” said Ashley, biting her pen as she whipped out her phone and did some calculations. “That’s…what…500, 600 miles away?” 

“But what about from the nearest port?” asked Patricia. 

“200, 300?” said Katie, who also had her phone out, doing calculations. 

“Hmmm, not too far,” said Ashley, jotting down some numbers. 

“But,” said Patricia, “remember that if we’re just shipping the raw sugarcane, it’s gonna weigh a whole lot less than our current shipments of pure cane sugar.” 

“Ooohhh, that’s right!” said Ashley excitedly. “Good point, Trish!” 

Timothy’s head was already spinning. It was all he could do to keep up with how fast the conversation was going. He was stunned by how quick and snappy his co-workers were…how fast they thought on their feet, how immediate and crisp their ideas were, and how effortlessly they played off each other. With each passing moment he felt increasingly desperate to get some kind of word in. After Patricia’s point, he saw his chance. 

“Uh…how are we…ummm,” and he felt the red deepening in his face as he felt three pairs of eyes on him as he stammered around. He felt that as soon as he opened his mouth, it had become abundantly clear who the low-level employee was. But he pressed on: “Are we…uh…wouldn’t…umm…the sugarcane actually weigh…uh…more than the sugar?” 

There was silence for a moment as the three women stared at him blankly. For a moment, Timothy felt like he had raised an important point, and some hope rose up in his chest that he was making a positive contribution. 

“Uh, no Timmy,” said Ashley, seeming a little perturbed at his question. “We’d just be extracting the flavor from the sugarcane, which means we wouldn’t need that much of it shipped here.” 

“Oh, we…we wouldn’t?” he asked, feeling increasingly stupid. 

“Uh…no,” said Ashley matter-of-factly. “No we wouldn’t.” A few more seconds of silence passed, with Timothy looking totally bemused. 

“One of you wanna tell him why?” said Ashley to the other two women, not bothering to hide her annoyance now. 

“Flavor extraction means we get “concentrated” product,” said Patricia quickly, turning to Timothy and speaking in an exaggeratedly slow manner. 

“And “concentrated” means that a little goes a long way,” added Katie, speaking just like Patricia in that condescending tone. 

“I know what “concentrated” means!” snapped Timothy, not being able to help his almost childish response. 

“No need to get snippy now,” said Ashley, turning to him and narrowing her eyes. “You’re the one who needed us to explain something that should be common knowledge to you at this point, even if you’re just a batch mixer.” That dull ache in the bottom of his stomach made Timothy realize that he was shrinking again, ever so slightly…which annoyed him. He felt like it was getting out of control. Ashley stopped speaking and seemed for a moment to realize how her tone of voice sounded to him, and what she had actually said…it seemed like she might backtrack and apologize for her condescension, but instead she just breathed in thought her nose, collecting herself as she turned back to Patricia and Katie.

“So…anyway…what were we saying before all that?” she said. 

“Trish was pointing out that we could cut down on our shipping weight if we just get the raw cane shipped here,” said Katie. 

“Oh right! Yeah, that’s right,” said Ashley, swinging back into the saddle. “And that’s definitely one positive…a big positive to Trish’s idea. At this point the only question I have is…well…will it work?” 

“You mean will it actually taste good?” asked Patricia. 

“Yeah!” said Ashley. “I mean, what does raw sugarcane taste like, anyway?” 

“Not like that much, actually,” said Katie. “It tastes like sugar, but like…watered down.” 

“Kind of like slightly sugared water?” asked Ashley. 

“Yeah, exactly,” said Katie. 

“Hmmm, well customers probably won’t care too much for that,” said Ashley, jotting down more notes. 

“No, but we could just up the flavor concentrate,” said Patricia. “That way we intensify the flavor.” 

“But how much cane juice concentrate would we be adding?” asked Ashley. “The more concentrate, however small, the more calories. And you heard Clare — we’ve gotta keep it to a minimum.” 

“Mint!” came Katie’s excited voice. They all turned to look at her, and she beamed back. “We don’t have to up the sugar cane concentrate!” she said enthusiastically, “We just need to add the right compliment that accentuates the flavor of sugar and amplifies it — brings it out!” 

“Aha!” said Ashley, nodding her head in approval as her hand moved quickly to write down these ideas. “Mint definitely compliments sugar really well — good start! What else?” 

“Ginger!” chirped Patricia.

“Oh hell yeah!” said Katie, “those sugared ginger drops from the farmer’s market are to die for! Imagine drinking a fizzy drink that tasted like that!” 

“I love it, I love it,” said Ashley with energy, her writing hand going over and over the page. 

“Grapefruit!” enjoined Katie. “Especially for the hotter summer months we’re in right now.” 

“Sweet and sour — I’m all about it!” said Ashley, nodding her head vigorously. 

“Mango!” called out Patricia. “To add a heartier fruit flavor, you know?”

“Mango and grapefruit for the summer — it’s great, guys!” said Ashley enthusiastically. 

Timothy had been racking his brain, trying to come up with a flavor that he could call out that would contribute to the conversation. He was going to say “lime,” but that sounded too easy, too generic. He had to think of something that none of the other girls would think of…something that only he would say. After Patricia said “mango,” he suddenly got it. 

“Papaya!” he called out. The three women turned to look at him again, and he immediately felt the crushing weight of their eyes. His idea had not been well-received, and once again, he had derailed the conversation. 

“Too close to mango,” said Ashley with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Heavy fruit flavor, but not as naturally sweet…mango’s better. What else, girls, what else?” Ashley had turned back to Patricia and Katie, as if she was now convinced that she was only going to get acceptable ideas from them. Timothy felt the burn of humiliation in his cheeks accompany a twinge of anger as he felt himself shrinking a little again. This wasn’t right — his ideas were just as good as theirs! He just wasn’t as quick with them. He had to say something else…he had to. 

“Kiwi!” he blurted out. Ashley turned to him, now clearly annoyed; Katie sighed in vexation as Patricia just stared at him. 

“The US supply of kiwi comes from California,” said Ashley. “Do you really think we have room in our budget to ship kiwi in some tractor trailer all the way across the country?” Timothy felt his mouth go dry as he sat there stupidly, his legs dangling off the desk, as the other women stared at him. In that moment, he felt the intense professionalism of the three women, and felt positively blown away by how on top of everything they were, and how adult and competent they all looked. He felt like some kind of child around them…an ignorant, incapable, untalented, and clumsy child who was smaller than them in every way. And it was true. 

“You know, Timmy,” said Ashley after a few moments of silence, “if you don’t have anything useful to contribute, please don’t say anything at all instead of trying to impress us. It just comes off as silly and immature, and we really don’t have time for it, ok?” 

“O-ok…” said Timothy, his face now really burning in shame. Another stomach twinge…he was shrinking again. 

“Ok, two more flavors, please,” said Ashley, returning to Patricia and Katie, “and make them something other than fruit, alright? We need variety.” 

The women thought for a few moments, as Timothy’s mind had been wiped blank with the humiliation of the previous exchange. His clothes hung on him looser, and his loafers were now almost dangling off his feet. 

“Vanilla,” said Katie quietly. 

“Vanilla…” said Patricia thoughtfully, as if pondering the idea. 

“Vanilla!” yelled Ashley excitedly after a few more seconds of thought. “And we could add some cinnamon and licorice root in with it and we’d get something close to a root beer flavor, except with our own little twist!” 

“Brilliant, Ashley!” said Katie, clapping her hands. 

“Ok, now one more…one more,” said Ashley, breathing in and out enthusiastically. “Isn’t this awesome, ladies?” she suddenly added, looking up from her notepad to Patricia and Katie, positively beaming. “We’re just nailing all these ideas, ya’ll! Clare’s putting a lot of faith in us here, and we’re delivering for her!” She laughed out loud as Patricia and Katie assented their approval. “I mean, we’re doing it, girls! We’re cooking up these flavors that we’re gonna see on TV and supermarket shelves in no time. That’s us! How cool is that?!” 

“Super cool, Ashley,” said Patricia, smiling. 

“Ok, ok, one more, one more,” said Ashley again, careful not to get too caught up in the moment, and the three women lowered their heads to their notepads, and the sound of pens hurriedly moving across paper filled the room. Timothy sat there on Ashley’s desk, feeling totally left out. This meeting had really hit home the reality to him — he just wasn’t up to speed. He wasn’t on their level. They knew more than him, thought faster than him, were more creative than him, and were therefore more confident in their ideas than him. They were all just…better than him. It had never been more clear to Timothy why these three had received promotions and he had remained a batch mixer. As they all three jotted down their ideas and continued to talk amongst themselves, Timothy found himself noticing more and more how their outfits and bodies fit their positions. Here were three hard-working professional women, loving every minute of their job as they lived and breathed vigorous life and creativity into their work. They all looked so established and adult…so much…older and grown…so much more…developed. And he looked down at himself and his over-big clothes, at his baggy pants and loose t-shirt, at his tiny wrists that were looking more and more child-like, and at his thin little thighs that were absolutely swallowed up by his jeans. 

He glanced down at Ashley’s lap and saw her thick, developed thighs straining through her tight green dress. He felt his cock getting hard and thanked the stars that his jeans were baggy enough to hide it. His eyes moved over to Katie, who had pulled up the sleeves of her cornflower-blue blouse and was leaning on her bare arms as she hunched down in concentration. Her white arms looked so plump and full…so…developed and womanly. Timothy gave his own arms another glance and couldn’t stifle a little exhale of arousal — her arms had to be at least twice as thick as his now…to say nothing of her thighs and her…huge ass. Another little disturbance gurgled about in the bottom of his stomach, and he suddenly felt one of his loafers, which had been dangling from his foot, drop off and fall to the floor. 

All three women looked up to see what the noise was, and Timothy attempted to rally an apology. 

“S-sorry,” he said, hoisting himself down off the desk with difficulty to retrieve his fallen shoe. “My, uh…my shoe just slipped off.” He got down to retrieve it and tried to put it back on. He discovered with anxiety that his foot fit so loosely into it that he realized that he was going to have to hold both his feet up a certain way to keep his shoes from slipping off again. Looking up, he also realized that Ashley’s desk was just about even with his shoulders. He had shrunk another few inches. 

“You got smaller,” said Ashley suddenly, her eyes still fixed on him.

“W-what’s that?” he asked, hoping that she would get back to her work without belaboring the point. He was definitely aroused by his shrinking, but he was getting the uncomfortable and increasingly desperate feeling that it was getting out of control. 

“My desk was chest-high to you when you walked in here this morning,” said Ashley, looking straight at him and speaking seriously. “Now it’s as high as your shoulders. You shrunk again.” Katie let out a little cry of excitement and she rushed over to compare herself with him, standing up next to him and stretching herself up to her full height. It was inescapably true — he had shrunk. 

“Oh my god,” she said quietly, almost unable to contain her excitement and wonder, “look at this! He doesn’t even come up to my shoulders now!” Timothy felt the heavy weight of Katie’s hand on the top of his head measuring it according to her height. She turned him around, easily maneuvering his body with her hands, so that he was looking straight at her. He was greeted by the sight of her impressive tits bulging out of her blouse…Katie had always had a nice buxom rack to go along with her fat ass, but Timothy had never remembered her looking quite this voluptuous. 

“Holy shit he’s looking straight into my tits,” said Katie, bunching them up in his face. She put her large hand to the back of his head, and was about to shove his head straight into her breasts, when she apparently thought better of it and let him go, laughing and giggling as she returned to her seat. 

“Well, this is certainly curious,” said Ashley, eying Timothy intensely. “Do you feel alright, Timmy?” 

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m fine!” he said, fetching the trash can and using it to help himself back onto the desk. “I’m fine! Let’s go…let’s do this.” 

“Uh…then maybe you’d like a notepad?” ventured Ashley. “You haven’t taken any notes this whole meeting, Timmy.” 

“That’s because he doesn’t have any ideas,” giggled Katie, her eyes dancing at him. She was clearly getting the biggest kick out of him shrinking. 

“Well, let’s see if he can come up with something,” said Ashley, pushing a notepad in his direction. “One flavor, Timothy. Go! Ladies, let’s leave our little Timmy to it and move onto logistics.” 

For the next hour or so, Ashley, Patricia, and Katie were deep in discussions of how this new idea was going to work, how they were going to implement it, and what its implications were for the future direction of the company. Timothy sat on a corner of Ashley’s desk, with his back to them, as he tried and tried to come up with some kind of flavor that would earn their praise. Both of his shoes had now fallen off for the third time, and he hadn’t even bothered to retrieve them. He hunched himself down, trying to concentrate, even though the rich voices of the other women were getting more and more distracting. Their discussion certainly sounded complicated — far too complicated for him to really understand or appreciate, but he wasn’t distracted by the content of their conversation. Instead, he was distracted by the deep, vibrant, and resonant tones that their voices had taken on. All four of them sounded so…so elegant and savory…luscious, even. Surely they hadn’t all sounded like this before…? Timothy wasn’t completely sure, but he strongly suspected that the increased richness of their voices had something to do with Maia. When he had said “beautification,” he hadn’t really thought about the richness of women’s voice tone, but there it was, in his very ears…the dulcet sounds of full, confident, feminine voices going on and on, talking to each other. He shut his eyes and sighed a little in pleasure. 

“Timmy?” came Ashley’s voice suddenly, with a bit of an edge to it, “I really hope, for your own sake, that you’re working over there.” 

“I…I am, Ashley!” he said, fumbling with his notepad, which was seeming bigger and bigger in his hands. 

“Well, I don’t see anything written down on that notepad of yours,” said Ashley. “Come on, Timmy — don’t make me role-play Clare here.” 

“I’m…I’m working, I promise!” he called out, noticing that his own voice sounded smaller and higher-pitched than it had before. “I just like to…uh…brainstorm in my head for a while before I write anything down.” 

“Uh huh,” said Ashley, sounding unconvinced. “Just…just please come up with something reasonable, ok, Timmy? We don’t even have to use it as a final flavor. Just…something that I can show to Clare that proves that you’ve made at least some kind of contribution today, ok?”

“O-ok,” he said in a small voice. 

“She’s trying to help you, Timmy — you know that don’t you?” said Katie.

“Yes…yes, I know,” he said in a slightly huffy voice, lowering his head down his his notepad. He tried to block out the rest of what Katie said in reply…she was saying something that included the words “wimpy” and “batch-mixer,” followed by a couple of giggles, but he succeeded in shutting the rest out as he felt the hotness linger in his face. 

By the end of the day, the three women had drawn up some impressive plans for the new drink recipes, complete with a detailed design of the supply and distribution logistics. Clare was overjoyed as Ashley led her step-by-step through each aspect of the prospective plan, and she uttered plenty of “ooohs” and “aaahs” as Katie and Patricia chimed in with their complimentary points and analysis. 

Timothy was still sitting on the edge of Ashley’s desk, a few little perfunctory notes scribbled down on his notepad, feeling very much left out of the dynamic four-women circle that was going back and forth, point after point, like currents of electricity in a glass ball that were making connections and attachments every which way. He felt dumb, slow, unintelligent, and small in every way. Though he was still conscious of his erect cock through much of the day, he couldn’t say that he was exactly enjoying it. 

“And now to our little Timmy,” came Clare’s voice suddenly as she turned to face him. The other three women all turned in kind, and Timothy suddenly felt the overwhelming energy of four pairs of intense, piercing eyes on his shrunken body. “Holy shit he’s gotten even smaller,” said Clare quietly, as if she could hardly believe it. She reached out and grabbed a baggy bit of his t-shirt and shook it. “He’s literally shrinking out of his clothes!” Katie and Patricia giggled softly behind her while Ashley kept staring at him with an expressionless face. 

“Which, speaking of clothes,” said Clare seriously, releasing hr grip of his t-shirt, “I know you’re just wearing what you can right now, Timmy, but no matter what’s happening to that little body of yours, I still expect you to dress for work appropriately. And this…well, this doesn’t cut it, you understand?” 

“Uhh..y-yeah, yeah, of course,” he stammered. “I’ll…uh…I’ll go shopping later today.” 

“Good,” said Clare, nodding her head smartly. “Now tell me, what do you have for me today, huh? How did you contribute?” Ashley, Patricia, and Katie all exchanged knowing glances. Timothy was all of a sudden unable to speak, and he was only able to manage a dry cough or two. 

After a few more seconds, Ashley came to his rescue. 

“Timmy came up with a new flavor to go along with all the others,” she said. 

“Oh did he?” said Clare, cocking her head as she raised an eyebrow. Timothy couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not. “Well, let’s have it from the horse’s mouth. What’s the new flavor, Timmy?” 

He swallowed nervously a couple of times before he was able to say, in a tiny voice, “C-curry.”

The silence in the room was deafening. Ashley, Katie, and Patricia were all exchanging their respective glances again, and they looked again to Clare, anticipating her reaction. 

“Curry,” said Clare in a dead-pan voice. She narrowed her eyes down at Timothy. He was unable to meet her eyes and looked quickly down at his hands. 

“Curry!?” asked Clare again, but this time for forcefully and shrilly, as if she could not believe her ears. 

“Y-yes,” said Timothy, looking back up at her incredulous expression, desperate to explain himself. “Y-you see, it’s a…it’s a…a bold, um, attempt to…to give the consumer something, uh, s-something that they haven’t uh, haven’t experienced b-before in a soda,” he sputtered, knowing how pathetic and timid he sounded, but trying to power through his explanation nonetheless. “It’s a…a new and r-r-revolutionary way of seeing soda. N-not only as something…as something sweet, but, uh, savory too. Sweet and s-savory…like, uh…like a meal.” 

Clare’s silent piercing stare told him everything he needed to know, and he was not surprised by what came next.

“So that’s what he came up with?” she asked, turning to the other women. “That’s what Timmy has to show for a full day’s work?”

“Mmmhmmm,” said Ashley, arching her eyebrows as she nodded. 

“Curry,” said Katie, nodding in kind as she grinned. 

“You do realize,” said Clare, turning back to Timothy, her voice dripping with haughtiness, “that we live in the United States, don’t you, Timmy?” 

“Y-yes,” he squeaked. 

“And I’ve got nothing against India — great country for all I can tell,” said Clare loftily, “but do you actually think that American consumers — who, if you’ll recall, have soundly rejected Bubble Town’s idea of chicory root soda — are ready for a…a curry flavored soda??” 

“Th-that’s all I had!” said Timothy desperately, throwing up his hands. “I thought you’d appreciate the…the boldness of the idea!” He couldn’t hide the disappointment and hurt in his voice, and it came out, without his intent, in a kind of whine. 

Clare’s mouth curled into a calm superior smile that was almost nasty. “Boldness is one thing,” she said, indicating to Patricia. “Ginger is bold.” She indicated to Ashley and Katie. “Vanilla, cinnamon, licorice root — that’s bold.” She turned back to him. But curry? Come on, Timothy.” Katie and Patricia giggled again as Ashley just shook her head. “Boldness is one thing, Timmy,” said Clare, “but recklessness…and ignorance, really…is another.” 

Timothy hung his head and was not able to say any more. Clare stared at him hard for a few more moments, almost not believing how little he had contributed, before she turned back to the other women. “Ok, anyway, getting past all that nonsense…I think we really have something here, girls! Sugarcane complimented by a whole host of new and exciting flavors. And, as Ashley has pointed out, a new soda that potentially can be targeted directly to diabetics, since the natural sugar in sugarcane has a low glycemic index. All in all, despite a few impediments in the way (and she indicated to Timothy), a wonderfully productive day’s work, ladies! I’ll be sure to mention all the hard work you’ve put in to the boss, and don’t be surprised if the three of you see raises on the horizon.” Ashley, Patricia, and Katie all responded enthusiastically, congratulating each other. Clare moved to leave. 

“Timmy?” she said, a bit of harshness edging her voice.

He looked up at her. “Y-yes?” 

“It goes without saying that you’ll be back in batch mixing tomorrow. I’m sorry, sir, but “curry flavor” just doesn’t cut it in this department. I hope you’ve at least seen up close how your superiors operate every day. Maybe it’ll give you some inspiration and encouragement to do better.” 

A little while later, Timothy felt like he was literally dragging his feet to his car. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. The shrinking had taken it out of him, and just being in the proximity of his female colleagues’ fast-paced work rate had been enough to mentally drain him. He thought about taking the stairs to the fourth floor of the parking deck, but quickly decided on the elevator instead. He was just…so tired. But as he walked into the elevator and the doors shut, he had to smile to himself. No one knew what…or rather “who”… was waiting for him at home. He wondered what Beatrice had been doing all day, and the elevator started going up he closed his eyes and sighed, imagining how happy she would be to see that he had shrunk down even more. 

A sudden breeze danced through his hair. He was puzzled for a moment — he was in side the elevator…how was there a breeze? But then he smelled the unmistakable aroma of roses, and his heart quickened in his chest. 

“Well?” came Maia’s deep and magical voice from behind him. “How’s it going, little man?” 

He turned around and saw the goddess standing directly behind him, with her long elegant hands on her thick and persuasive hips. She had grown — her head was just at the top of the elevator ceiling, and Timothy saw that he was staring directly into the middle of her hips…into her crotch. Her long fingernails looked like sharpened talons, and her thighs were huge pillars of voluptuous flesh directly under his eyes. He looked up into her face and saw her dark eyes boring into his own…her red mouth was curved upward in a smile, and he was forced to exhale drily, blown away by her beauty. 

“Ahh…ah…g-good,” he said, trying as best he could to maintain eye contact. “Good!”

“Everything going just like you imagined?” she said, smiling down on him. 

“N-not…not exactly like I imagined,” he said, thinking back to his unwilling shame and humiliation at work. “B-but…but I don’t mind,” he said quickly, not wanting to sound ungrateful. His mind shot to Beatrice. “It’s…it’s just incredible!” he said truthfully, his face lighting up as he remembered how miraculous it all was. 

“Mmm I can see that you’re appreciating it,” said Maia warmly.

“I don’t…I don’t know what to say!” said Timothy, feeling an emotional surge within him. “You’ve…you’ve given me everything I wanted!” 

“Everything,” she said, arching her eyebrow from high above, “and more.” 

“Y-yes,” he said, nodding. A moment passed, and then he blurted out. “I don’t know how I can repay you, goddess! I don’t…I don’t know how to — ”

“Shhhh,” interrupted Maia, bending her gorgeous, hulking frame down and putting a long finger to his mouth. Timothy shuddered in ecstasy at her touch. It truly felt, from the buzzing warmth that went to his toes, that he was being touched by a goddess. 

“You don’t have to repay me, little man,” she breathed softly into his face. “You only have to remember what you’ve agreed to…and reap the consequences.” A shot of deep crimson sparkled in her eyes and was gone and soon as it had arrived. 

“Oh I do! I do remember!” he said enthusiastically. “And I won’t, won’t forget!” 

“That’s good,” she said, smiling at him again as she stood back up to her full height.

“Y-you’re taller!” he blurted out, wanting to speak with this divinity longer. “And…and bigger!” 

“Of course I am,” she laughed, filling the elevator with the music of her voice. “I’m taking it from you.” 

“From…from me?” 

“Every time you get smaller,” she said, holding out her huge hands to display herself, “I get bigger.” 

Timothy actually laughed out loud. “Of course!” he said. “Of course! That, uh…that makes so much sense!” 

The elevator suddenly dinged, causing Timothy to turn around for an instant, surprised by how much the worldly sound contrasted with Maia’s otherworldly voice. He turned back around and was stunned to see that he was looking at the bare elevator wall. The goddess had gone. Timothy could still, however, smell the unmistakable hint of roses.


	6. Not Really A Man Anymore

Timothy had more trouble driving home than he cared to admit — at this point driving seemed like a dangerous activity for someone who was as small as he was. He had adjusted the seat all the way forward and elevated the seat’s height as much as possible, and even still he had a hard time operating the brake and gas pedals with his feet. He could barely see over the steering wheel; halfway home he decided to sit on his briefcase to give himself a better view of the road, but this meant that his feet could no longer reach the pedals. Suffice it to say, he felt lucky to make it home on one piece. Plenty of people had expressed their frustration and anger at his bad driving, and as he walked into his house his ears were still literally ringing with car horns. 

And there she was, just like he imagined, and his heart jumped into his mouth as his cock stirred in his oversized pants — Beatrice was laid out lengthwise on the sofa, looking for all the world like a luxurious cat. She was looking at him with a long and mischievous smile on her face. 

“Oh my god,” she breathed, evidently pleased by his shrinking, “you got smaller. A lot smaller.”

“Y-yeah, yeah I did,” said Timothy, holding out his hands simply, not knowing what else to say. 

Beatrice rose from the sofa with the agility of a big cat as she walked straight up to him, standing tall, up to her full height, right in front of him. Timothy could not help but get slack-jawed at Beatrice’s size. She positively loomed over him. The top of his head didn’t even come up to the bottom of her big tits; he was staring straight ahead into her abs, which he could see lightly defined through the tight black dress she was wearing. He glanced down at her feet, expecting to see her wearing heels of some kind that made her taller, but she was barefooted. 

“Wow,” said Beatrice with quiet energy, putting her hands on her hips. “Look at you. You’re like a kid next to me.” He certainly felt like a kid with her standing over him like this. This childlike feeling was increased by his realization that Beatrice had…developed even further. There was no doubt about it now: the beatification wish was coming true right before his eyes. Her lips looked thicker and plusher; her face shone with a kind of dark radiance that, when directed at him, made him feel so much smaller than he already was. Her arms and legs seemed longer and fuller; her already-impressive breasts looked a size or so bigger. And her ass, which he could see strongly curving up around her hips, looked absolutely massive. Any slight movement sent its voluminous flesh into a series of jiggles that were mesmerizing to watch. 

Beatrice suddenly stepped forward and grabbed Timothy’s shoulder roughly with one of her hands, and he nearly fell down. She turned him around unceremoniously with her hand, squeezing his shoulder and upper arm. She repeated this action a few more times, effortlessly rotating his shrunken body around in circles as she tested his arms for size. Her big strong hands squeezed and pulled as they coarsely navigated Timothy around and around. Her sudden rough handling surprised him, and he as unable to stifle a yelp of pain when one of her fingers pinched the loose flesh on his shoulder. 

“Owww!” he said, realizing how his voice up-turned into a high pitch. 

“Oh get a handle, baby,” said Beatrice unsympathetically as she continued to toy with him in the same raw and harsh manner. Timothy was definitely turned on by her touch, but he was now starting to panic a little as it became clear that Beatrice either didn’t know or didn’t care that she was hurting him. He spoke up again, a little louder this time. 

“B-beatrice! Th-that hurts!” 

“Aww the tiny little man’s in pain,” came her sarcastic voice from above. She suddenly stopped twirling him around and grabbed both of his hands in one of hers, stooping down low so that she was looking him directly in the face. She pouted her plush lips in his face as her eyes sparkled darkly. 

“So you’re not just getting shorter and skinnier — you’re also getting wimpier too!” She let out a laugh that Timothy tried to pretend was meant as a joke, but he was not able to avoid the thought that Beatrice was actually taking pleasure, mean-spirited pleasure, in his shrinkage. 

“Uhh, I don’t…I, uhh — ” he stuttered, feeling totally overcome by her size and beauty as she looked into his face with her intense dark eyes. 

“How about —” said Beatrice, cutting in assertively as she stood back up to her full height, “instead of stammering around like a little fool, you make me some dinner, huh?” 

“Oh…oh, yes!” said Timothy, jumping at the opportunity to do something for his girlfriend. “What would you…uh…what would you like to eat?” 

He had turned away from her and was walking toward the kitchen. But he suddenly felt two big arms reach around from behind, stopping him in his place. He could tell by the smell of the sweet fragrance of her breath that she had bent down behind him, her mouth at his ear.

“You,” she whispered lustily into his ear. “I want to eat you for dinner.” She had reached around with one of her arms and was now busy rummaging around in his pants with her big hand. She found his cock, which was already quite stiff, and squeezed it insistently, causing Timothy to give a sharp intake of breath. It almost hurt, the way she had grabbed it, but it definitely felt good too. 

She began milking his cock emphatically, keeping up the stream of dirty whispers in his ear. Already sexually frustrated throughout most of the day, and totally overcome by his new girlfriend’s incessant and dominant technique, Timothy could not hold on for long. Within half a minute he was spraying his load all over — his pants had slipped down completely during Beatrice’s forceful handjob. She reached around her other hand and caught Timothy’s cum as she cooed and laughed dirtily in his ear.

Once he was done, she brought her cupped hand with his cum up to her mouth and smelled it, looking down at him with wide eyes as her gorgeous mouth curved up sexily. 

“Mmmm, dinner is served,” she said, making her eyebrows go up and down at him. “Fresh from the source and totally organic.” She bent her mouth down and slurped up the cum noisily, making sure to put on a show for Timothy as she made his cum squelch and ooze through her lips and teeth. Watching her devour his cum that way made Timothy almost feel lightheaded, and he stumbled over to the counter and grabbed on to keep from falling down. 

“Mmm, aww,” said Beatrice through his cum, “isa too musshh forw wyou? Am I too musshh forw wyou little Timmy?” 

“N-no…y-you’re…you’re perfect,” he managed to to say, looking up at Beatrice in awe. 

She smiled down at him as she swallowed and continued to smack her lips. “Aww that’s very sweet my tiny guy, very sweet.” She used a long finger to gather up and cum that was still on her lips and stuck it into her mouth, pulling it out a few moments later with a *pop.* 

“That was a fine little appetizer, but yeah, I’m still gonna need you to make that dinner,” she said as she made her way back to the sofa. 

“Of…of course!” said Timothy, almost stumbling after her. “Yes…yes, I’ll just…I’ll just get right on that.”

“Mmmhmm,” nodded Beatrice, looking unimpressed as she stretched herself out on the sofa again. “And make sure it’s not something boring like mac and cheese or spaghetti and meatballs.” 

“O-ok,” said Timothy, suddenly beginning to feel nervous.

“Surprise me, Timmy — wow me — make me grateful that I have such a caring, talented boyfriend — think you have what it takes to do that?”

“Uhhh, sure,” said Timothy, not actually very assured of his ability to cook up exciting food. 

“I’m blown away by your self-confidence,” said Beatrice drily. She extended a hand and literally shooed him back to the kitchen. “Go on now,” she said, a tad impatiently, “go on little guy. Get to work. Cook up something goooodd.” 

For the next hour or so, Timothy struggled in the kitchen, toiling away to try and make the best possible meal for his knockout new girlfriend. He was still reeling from her forcing him to cum, and he wasn’t sure, but he had a pretty good hunch that he had shrunk some more even after returning home. In any case, he was having to stand on phonebooks just to reach things in the fridge and to make use of the counter. He glanced over at the lines on the opposite wall that had measured his previous height — he wanted so badly to measure himself now to see how small he had gotten, but he didn’t think that Beatrice would take too kindly to him abandoning his dinner duties. 

“Holy shit she’s hot,” he thought blissfully to himself as he stole glances at her big long body reclining on the sofa. He wondered if she had grown any, and if so, by how much? He was going to have to find a way to get her to measure herself for him…but a smile crossed his face suddenly as he remembered: he didn’t need to find a way — she would be totally into it already! All he had to do was mention it. The frustrations of the day melted away as Timothy basked, at least for the moment, in the euphoria of having this bombshell of a girlfriend just laying there on his sofa. 

But soon the trouble of cooking started to overshadow his joy. He wasn’t that great of a cook to begin with, and Beatrice’s sudden orders had made him feel anxious. What was she going to do if she didn’t like what he made? Would she mock him? Leave him? No, that wasn’t possible, surely…he had wished for a girlfriend and now he had her….there was no way he was only going to get her for a day or two, right?! The longer he puttered around the kitchen, accidentally dropping this here and spilling that there, the more Timothy started to worry about pleasing Beatrice. A few times he looked over at her and was not encouraged to see her looking bored as she played around on her phone. After about half an hour passed, she called out to him. 

“Well? How’s it coming little guy? This big girl’s getting hungry, and when I get hungry, I get hangry.” 

“It’s…it’s coming ok,” said Timothy, who had only made a salad with chopped vegetables and was now struggling with a bag of frozen chicken tenders. He hadn’t even gotten to the baked potatoes yet. He knew that she probably wouldn’t be blown away by this meal, but this was literally the best he could do. He didn’t have a lot of other food in the house. Maybe she would at least like it a little bit…maybe it would be enough to satisfy her…

“Well, get those little legs of yours moving quicker,” she called out. “I don’t wanna wait much longer.” 

Half an hour later, Timothy had finally finished everything and had served up two plates. He made sure that Beatrice’s portion was larger and that she had all the best tenders and the tastiest parts of the salad and the better potato. He brought both plates into the dining room, where Beatrice was now sitting with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She already didn’t look too pleased, and when she saw what Timothy was bringing in, her eyes flashed, and Timothy actually started shaking a little in fear. 

“That’s it?” she said, looking at him as she cocked her head to the side. “That’s your idea of the marvelous, awesome, surprising meal I was talking about?” 

“Uhh…uhh…” said Timothy, starting to panic a little. “J-just…uh…w-well, I think, uh…I think it’s pretty g-good. Wh-why don’t you…uh…t-taste it and, and s-see what you th-think?”

“Uh, uh, uh, o-o-ok,” said Beatrice mockingly, her eyes following him as he sat down. “Geez, Timothy, you’re talking like your brain is shrinking right along with your body.”

She reached down and grabbed a chicken finger, holding it up to her face as she regarded it mockingly. 

“Yummy!” she said sarcastically, and plopped the whole thing in her mouth. Her brow furrowed as she chewed and swallowed. Timothy picked and nipped at his food nervously, afraid for what was going to come next. Beatrice looked him straight in the eye across the table; her stare bore down into him and made him feel positively miniscule. 

“Timmy, that was fucking disgusting.” Her voice was dripping with condescension and tinged with bitterness. “Is this seriously the kind of shit that you eat every day?” 

“Ahh, uh…s-sometimes,” he said in a small voice.

“Because if this is the kind of crap you eat on a regular basis,” she continued, “then it makes total sense why you’re shrinking down into a wimpy little nothing.” She stood up abruptly, leaving the table. 

“W-where are you going?” asked Timothy desperately. 

Beatrice didn’t answer — she went straight for the sofa, and for a moment Timothy was terrified that she was going to gather up her things and leave. He was so scared that he didn’t even notice the little feeling in his stomach that indicated that, once again, he had shrunk. Beatrice reached down for her phone and was dialing a number. 

“Hello, I’d like to place an order for delivery,” she said, looking down straight at Timothy as she spoke. “Yes…yes. A large meat lover’s with a greek salad. Yes. Perfect…Yes…well, the boyfriend can’t cook, apparently. Don’t know why I’m surprised, though. Haha, isn’t that the truth?” 

Beatrice laughed and joked with the other person on the line, and Timothy could tell by the sound that it was another woman. It had sounded deep and like a man’s voice at first, but he realized that the woman’s voice was just deep and rich. Come to think of it, Beatrice’s voice seemed a little lower…and richer…more textured. The beatification was underway…and Timothy felt a heaviness lift off his chest. He still felt bad about failing to cook a good dinner, but the imperious way that Beatrice was behaving, with all of her mocking and jibs and quips and sharp little comments about his size, made him feel very excited. He wished that she would act maybe a tad bit nicer, or…something…gentler, maybe. But who was he kidding — she was an 11 out of 10 and he was maybe a 4. Of course she would get frustrated sometimes. But he just had to do things to…to make her feel like she was the amazon goddess he saw in her. 

As she continued with her pizza order on the phone, Timothy realized that he had to do something in repentance for dinner. She had turned around and sat her huge ass down on the sofa as she completed her order, and had crossed her legs so that one of her bare feet was dangling in the air. Timothy saw his chance and went over, kneeling before her legs as he stretched out his hands. He was shaking a little in fear and apprehension — he wasn’t sure how she was going to take this, but he had to try. 

His hands made contact with the soft warm flesh of her foot, and he began to knead into it, giving her an impromptu foot massage. Beatrice looked across at him as she continued speaking on the phone; she made no reaction in her facial expressions, but she did keep her eyes on Timothy as he continued massaging his small hands into her big foot. After she hung up she dropped her phone onto the sofa, her eyes never leaving him. For a few moments she silently regarded him, looking down at her foot with an arrogant, exacting expression. 

“Mmmm that’s right,” she said after a minute or so, her voice almost down to a purr. “That’s where you belong: at my feet, and rubbing them with those weak tiny little hands for all you’re worth.” 

“I-I j-just though —” he began, but Beatrice cut him off.

“Shh! I don’t need the massage marred by having to listen to you stutter through some more words, Timmy. Seriously, what’s the deal? Is being in my presence really that overwhelming to you that you literally can’t speak?”

More words caught in his throat, and Beatrice laughed softly. “Of course that’s it,” she said, “that’s exactly what it is. I just overwhelm you in every way, huh?” 

Timothy made something like a little squeak in the back of his throat, unable to say anything else, eliciting another laugh from Beatrice as she extended a long toe and brushed him in the face. “Aww haw haw, look at you — you can’t even say a word. Well, I guess it makes sense. I’m like two feet taller than you now and could snap your little spine with one hand if I wanted to. I’m just…I’m just so much more than you, Timmy. There’s…just…so much more of me that exists. God, I mean look at my foot — it’s longer than your head!”

Timothy was fully erect again from all this dirty talk, but Beatrice wasn’t about to make him cum again just yet. She was looking at something else right now…the pencil marks on the wall. Timothy’s heart skipped a beat as he saw her looking at them, and was inwardly thrilled to see a smile creep onto her face. She looked down at him, her smile almost a sneer. 

“Oh boy, the little guy’s really into this, isn’t he?” she teased down at him in a kind of baby voice. “He loves being so small and weak and helpless next to his big tall girlfriend who can totally dominate him in every way…and he’s getting smaller. Oh yeeah he is…smaller and smaller and smaller.” She stood up and grabbed him roughly by the shoulder again, practically dragging him over to the wall. 

“Let’s see how he measures up now.”

Timothy was almost dizzy from excitement and arousal by this point, and he gladly submitted to feeling like a rag doll in Beatrice’s hands as she pulled him over and shoved him up against the wall. 

“Stand straight now,” she said, getting the pencil to mark, “or, you know, as straight as you can. Jesus Timmy, your posture is awful.” 

He stood up as tall as he could and Beatrice drew a measurement with the pencil right above his head. 

“Holy shit you’re short,” she muttered as she bent down to fetch the measuring tape. “You have to be under four feet now.” 

She slowly drew out the measuring tape, looking down at him with a crooked smile as she widened her eyes in exaggeration. She extended out the measuring tape against the wall. 

“One, two, three…” came her voice, rising up in anticipation. “Three foot eight.” Her voice was deadpan as she stared down at him. “Three foot eight,” she repeated, her eyes getting wide. Suddenly she got down on her knees. Even this way, she was a little taller than him — Timothy couldn’t believe how hard he was. 

“I’m taller than you on my knees, Timothy. On my knees!” Beatrice was clearly quite excited about the most recent shrinkage, and Timothy actually saw her hand go down to her crotch and begin to play with it. He looked up at her face, which was very close to his, and he could see that her nostrils were dilated and her eyes were flashing. She was just as turned on as he was, but instead of her arousal feeling like it was draining the life out, like it was with him, her arousal seemed to increase her power, her vitality, her aggression. 

“This is fucking incredible!” she breathed at him. She stood up to her full height and put her hands on her hips, making it a point to loom over Timothy completely. The top of his head came up to her crotch — she now looked as tall as Maia had been in the elevator. In her tight black dress, her dark made-up, and her immense curves, she looked positively fearsome. 

“Like, look at this, Timothy!” she cried, extending out one of her huge, fleshy thighs. “My leg is as thick as your waist — holy shit, look at that! It’s thicker, actually!” And it was. Beatrice’s leg looked immense and powerful next to his tiny frail body. “You’re the size of one of my legs,” said Beatrice hoarsely down to him. “One of my legs. Let that sink in for a moment, huh?” It all felt incredibly erotic, and Timothy could really do nothing except stand there gaping at the ridiculous, absurd size differences between himself and Beatrice. She was the same way — it was as if she almost couldn’t believe it was true. And yet there it was, all plain to see. 

Timothy desperately wanted to see how tall Beatrice was, but he didn’t feel like he could ask her. Besides, he saw how she compared to the original 5’8 marker on the wall. She was a good deal taller…a number of inches…maybe five inches taller…maybe six? That would make her 6’1 or 6’2. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the reality set in. Before long, his girlfriend was literally going to be twice as tall as him. 

His close-eyed reverie was abruptly interrupted as Beatrice snatched him off the ground, practically slinging his body over to the scale. She didn’t even say anything — her intentions were clear. Timothy stood on the scale for a moment…and then…48 pounds. His heart seemed to stop in his chest. 48 pounds!?!? He didn’t even weigh 50 pounds!?! He couldn’t believe it — he heard laughter from high above him, and he knew that Beatrice was enjoying this bit most of all. 

“Oh my god, you’re an absolute fucking pipsqueak!” she laughed down at him. “You don’t even weigh 50 pounds, you little runt!” She laughed roughly. “Holy shit I was bigger than that when I was six. Six, Timmy!!” Sh crouched down on her knees again, looking at his tiny body with a sense of wonder. Timothy almost came right then and there just from her expression. 

“I don’t…it just…wow…I can’t even…even express…how tiny and pathetic you look right now,” she said genuinely, looking deep into his eyes and speaking with an even tone. “I just…Timothy, this…this changes things.”

“W-what do you mean?” asked Timothy fearfully. And then, he surprised himself by speaking his most dire fear aloud. “Are…are you gonna l-leave me??” Even just hearing his own voice utter those words was enough for Timothy to get emotional, and he felt tears start to well up in his eyes. 

“Leave you?” asked Beatrice incredulously. “Leave you? And leave…this?” She extended her arm out next to his leg, and uttered a cry of delight when she saw that her arm was thicker and longer than his leg. “Oh no, my tiny little baby man, I’m not going anywhere.” Timothy breathed a sigh of relief, even though he could see in Beatrice’s face something that was not quite right, something that didn’t sit too well with him. It was the way her dark eyes lit up…there was something…something scary behind them, despite all their beauty. 

“That’s not the kind of change I was talking about,” continued Beatrice, reaching out and patting his small head with her large hand. She could easily palm his head now. “I’m talking about changes in our…dynamic.”

“D-dynamic?” 

“Yes, Timothy. When I met you a few days ago, even though you were obviously weak and un-athletic, you still…looked like a man. You still were a man.”

“B-but, but I’m still a man now,” enjoined Timothy, surprising himself by his statement. Didn’t he want to shrink down like this?? If so, why was he putting up resistance? 

Beatrice was shaking her head, an odd smile on her face. “No, you’re not, little guy. You’re not a man anymore. You don’t even weigh 50 pounds. You can’t talk to me without st-st-st-uttering every third word. You can’t drive a car anymore. You can’t do things that other adults don’t even have to think about doing. And look at you — there’s not a hint of muscle on you whatsoever. You’re wasting away into a measly little husk of a person. I don’t know what’s happening to you, but whatever it is, I think it’s…it’s turning you into something less…into something less than human.”

Beatrice finished this vicious monologue and stood up, so that she was standing directly in front of him. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down on him, a haughty and severe look in her eye. 

“And I fucking love it,” she said emphatically. Her words caused Timothy to cower, since they were spoken with such energy and force. 

“I fucking love what’s happening to you,” she continued. “It means that you’re in my control right now, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You’re my little bitch, my little toy, my little pet to play with and tease and torment. I’ve wanted to do this for so long, but now….now I can.”

She reached down and grabbed Timothy by the throat, her huge hand easily fastening itself all the way around his neck. With terrifying ease, she lifted him off the ground by his neck and walked over to the sofa. Timothy gasped and fought to breathe as his little hands grappled with her big arm — he may as well have been trying to move a lead statue, such was the power and weight of her arm compared to his weak little muscles. Once they were over by the sofa she roughly threw him down on top of it, leaving him gasping and choking for air as he backed hurriedly away, facing her as she bore down on him, completely covering him in her shadow. 

“Yeah, look at you — you look like a scared little monkey, you know that?” As Timothy cowered at the corner of the sofa Beatrice started crawling towards him from the other end, her mouth open in a sexy snarl as she looked at him like prey. 

“That pizza’s on its way,” she said slowly as she approached him, “but I can’t wait that long. I want…another appetizer.” She had reached him. She extended her arms out and tore off his shirt, exposing his pale and sickly-looking chest. 

“You look like one of those AIDS victims,” said Beatrice ruthlessly, sticking one of her long fingers in between his exposed ribs. “Or one of those people in concentration camps. Ugh, god, Timmy it’s an absolute joke. Your body is a joke.” She kept on, drawing attention to every inadequacy that she saw. Timothy was as hard as a rock by this point, and his cock was pointed straight up at Beatrice’s face as she descended down on him. 

“Come on you little creature,” she said in a low hushed voice, “feed me your cum. Feed it to me. I’m gonna drink it. I’m gonna drink it all up — I’m gonna make you pop in my mouth and I’m gonna swallow you down, little Timmy. I’m gonna eat your soul.” 

This was all too much for Timothy and he howled and bucked as he shot his load. Beatrice chuckled it down her throat, moaning and shaking her head from side to side as she kept her eyes on Timothy’s. It really did feel like she was staring straight into his soul, and it really did feel like she was draining out his very life force with her hungry mouth. 

“Hmmm…is that it? That can’t be it,” she said shortly, holding up his cock to her face and studying it. “Come on little slave, I’m a big girl — give me more! I want more!!”

And with the second “more,” Beatrice had produced a long finger and jammed it up into Timothy’s ass. He threw his head back in surprise and yelled up at the ceiling. 

“N-no! No, B-beatrice, n-no, th-that…that hurts!!” 

“Shut up you little critter!” said Beatrice as she rammed her finger in and out, going deeper each time. “I’m gonna find that little prostate inside this tiny little ass of yours, and then you’re gonna give me what I want.” She continued to probe and jam her finger into his ass for minutes on end — Timothy’s eyes were crossing now, and he had his mouth open in a terrified, perpetual act of screaming, even though almost no sound was coming out. He was in too much pain and was far too overwhelmed to utter much noise at this point. But even as Beatrice hurt him, after a few minutes she found the little bean of his prostate.

“Aha, there it is,” she growled at him sexily, her huge face lit up right up next to him, her wild excited eyes drilling into his with a merciless hunger. “Now you can’t resist anymore — give it to me, give it to me, give it to me. It’s mine; it’s my cum. I’m gonna make it shoot out of you and then I’m gonna lick it up and eat it all.” 

The prostate stimulation, as well as her relentless dirty talk, took Timothy to a completely different level, and he orgasmed again, not once, not twice, but three times in a row, as Beatrice shouted out and growled and snarled in pleasure, catching it all in her open mouth as she rolled the cum around and around, gargling it aggressively before finally swallowing it. 

Twenty minutes later she was still jamming her finger into his ass when the doorbell rang. Beatrice uttered a cry of pleasure and stood up, walked casually over to the sink, and washed her hands. She straightened her hair and cleared her throat before answering the door. Behind her, Timothy lay sprawled on the sofa, his mind somewhere else entirely. His mouth was hanging open, and he was drooling a kind of white froth. His eyes were crossed and rolled back into his head. His little chest rose and fell lightly with slight breaths. He had cum more than he ever had in his life, so much so that he had passed out. But even as he had laid there unconscious, Beatrice had kept at him, unremitting in her determination to draw more and more and more from his shriveled body.


	7. A Party on the Horizon

For the next week or so, Beatrice kept Timothy at home. She had called Fizzy Pop herself and spoken with Clare, informing her that she was keeping her boyfriend at home for the present time due to health reasons. Clare had been expecting some kind of notification like this, so she wasn’t too surprised — she even took an extra minute or two to talk to Beatrice, to get to know her. She was more curious than anything about how a loser like Timothy could keep a girlfriend, especially one as assertive, intelligent, and on-the-ball as Beatrice seemed to be. 

“So, have you taken him to a doctor?” asked Clare over the phone. “Timmy says he went but none of us really believed him. He’s not really good at lying.”

“Well, from the sounds of it he’s not much good at much else, either,” said Beatrice wryly, drawing a laugh from Clare. 

“Wow, I’m sure he’s got his hands full with you, Beatrice,” she said. “What’s he…uh…what’s he like…in a relationship, if you don’t mind my asking.”

“What’s he like?” asked Beatrice. “Like a scared little puppy. Like a little child, really.”

“Oh!” said Clare, surprised by Beatrice’s immediate answer. “Oh, well…yeah, that’s not too surprising to hear, actually. He’s a straight up beta here at work, and it’s painfully obvious to the rest of us who work here, especially since all the higher-ups are women.”

“Oh that’s rich,” laughed Beatrice, thinking that she liked how this Clare person sounded. “But you know, Timmy gets off on it — he loves it when women make him feel small or stupid.”

“Well, then he must be having the time of his life,” said Clare. “How small did you say he was now?”

“He’s three feet tall and weighs 42 pounds,” said Beatrice. “He’s all skin and bones. It’s unbelievable.”

“God, it really is,” came Clare’s voice, almost in awe. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this, though, Beatrice.”

“Oh I love it,” said Beatrice straight-up. “I love that he’s getting smaller. His health is fine otherwise, even though he really is getting emaciated. All organ function is normal. He’s just…shrinking. And…well, I like being dominant, let’s just say that.”

“I can hear it,” said Clare, impressed by Beatrice’s forthrightness, “and, if I’m being honest, I think I’d get a real kick out of seeing the two of you together.” 

“Well, it’s funny you say that,” said Beatrice, “because I’ve spent a fair amount of time imagining what it’s like when Timothy interacts with the women he works with — you know, all the ones who are above him because they’re smarter and have a better work ethic?” 

“Yeah,” chuckled Clare.

“Yeah,” continued Beatrice, “I’d really enjoy watching those interactions. I love seeing him squirm, even as his face gets bright red because he’s turned on and can’t help it.”

“You’re really something, Beatrice,” said Clare, laughing some more. “Well, you know what — we can make this happen. I have good news — the new product I designed with my all-female team has really impressed the CEO of Fizzy Pop, so he’s giving me a big promotion.”

“That’s awesome to hear!” said Beatrice.

“Yes! And, to celebrate, I’m throwing a big party at my house next week. I want you to come, and bring Timmy. I have a few fun ideas that I really think you’d enjoy being a part of.”

Ten minutes later, Beatrice hung up the phone, smiling ear to ear. This was going to be one party to remember. 

When she told Timothy about Clare’s party, he tried to act more excited than he actually was, even though he had to admit that the idea of Beatrice, Clare, Ashley, Patricia, and Katie all together definitely got him going. He was less excited, though, because he was worried that his shrinking would get out of hand…in fact, it already had. He was down to three feet, and he was so weak and scrawny that he was having trouble doing normal, everyday things that he had not even considered before. 

For example, he was having trouble getting enough momentum to lug himself up to sit on the toilet seat. Beatrice had noticed and had brought in a step stool at the base of the toilet, not without having a laugh at his expense. He couldn’t reach the kitchen counters anymore — ordinarily, this wouldn’t have bothered Beatrice, but she was still insisting that Timothy make her dinner every night, so she had bleacher-like steps installed so that he could reach the countertops. His prepared meals didn’t get much better than that first night, but Timothy knew that Beatrice was only making him do it because she enjoyed dominating and subjugating him. She even had him wear an apron that she bought, that said “Never Trust a Skinny Chef.” She got a real kick out of watching him stumble around in the kitchen in this oversized apron, using the newly-installed steps just to reach the counter, and another step stool just to reach the ingredients in the refrigerator and pantry. 

Of course, Beatrice bought all these things with Timothy’s money. She had effectively taken over his finances by this point, which he found hot on one hand…but on the other hand, Beatrice was not showing any ability or willingness to control her spending, and he was actually worried that she was going to financially bleed him dry. She spent a good portion of the day lounging her big knockout body on Timothy’s sofa, surfing the web for fancy new clothes and shoes. She especially liked using Timothy’s money to buy a large variety of tall new heels for herself — each time she bought a new pair she taunted Timothy with the promise of rising above him even taller within the next day or two, as the heels were express-order delivered to the door. 

Aside from cooking meals, Beatrice was making Timothy perform all manner of menial chores and tasks around the house. She had him sweep the floors, dust all the furniture, and polish the silverware. She had him rub her feet and give her back and neck massages, mocking the measly job his small hands could manage. All this time, Beatrice’s own finances were not sitting idle: she was pouring in money from a cam-model site where she spent most of her time verbally dominating her male fans. Her new partnership with the rapidly shrinking Timothy had seemed to inspire her to nourish and cultivate her dominant instincts, and they were paying off. Within a couple weeks, she had hundreds of new fans, many of whom were only too willing to give her large sums of money in exchange for her services. They got what they paid for — Beatrice was truly dominant, and a stunningly gorgeous one to boot, and so the money came cascading in from all sides. She barely had to lift a finger, and she was getting rich right there on Timothy’s sofa as she watched him putter about the house, doing this or that arbitrary chore she had thought up for him. 

For his part, Timothy was feeling more and more like he was in some kind of limbo — on one hand, he just felt happy and thrilled…in awe of the fact that he was allowed to spend his days in Beatrice’s presence. She entranced him completely, and with each day that passed he grew more and more under her spell. Part of this was due to the fact that she was getting more and more beautiful, and tall, and elegant each day that passed, which Timothy could have hardly believed possible when he first met her. However, it was also due to the manner in which Beatrice was treating him. She wasn’t treating him like her boyfriend, her lover, or like an equal human being. Instead, more and more, she seemed to be treating him like her servant, like…and Timothy shuddered a bit at this word even though it exited him sexually…like…her slave. 

And this was why he felt like he was in limbo, in some kind of go-between world. He didn’t know how he really felt about this whole “slave” thing. It definitely turned him on…there was no doubt about that. But having a dominant girlfriend who was actually determined to treat him like he was truly lower, like he was something less than human, had taken him by surprise. Yes, he had wished for this from Maia, but he was beginning to think that perhaps he had not truly realized what he was asking for. Being treated like a slave by someone like Beatrice who could effortlessly dominate him made him feel…well, like he was actually powerless, like he had no say over what happened in his life. For the first few days, he was able to play off this feeling as part of the sexual enjoyment he was experiencing, but as the days passed and Beatrice spent more and more of his money, and made him do more and more arbitrary chores around the house, he found himself wishing that he had a little more say in the things that happened in his life. 

But this wasn’t possible — any attempt he had to assert himself or his own power was immediately, harshly, and inexorably put down by Beatrice. If Timothy hadn’t been so enamored by her size and her beauty, he would have realized what anyone from the outside could see: that she was a controlling, abusive partner who was using her significant other for her own fantasies of power and domination. Deep down, Timothy did actually know this, but he was so thrilled to have such a being as his girlfriend that he ignored all the warning signs that were going off in his head. He just had to adapt a little…that was all. He had asked for this and Maia had provided. His mind flashed nervously back to her raised eyebrows and the shifting colors of her beatific eyes, and her asking him if he was sure that he wanted to live with the consequences of having his fantasies come true. He had been so certain a couple of weeks ago, so certain…was he less certain now? He looked over at Beatrice, with her great lithe body stretched out on the sofa, her voluptuous thighs on full display, her thick hips and enormous ass making an obvious dent in the sofa cushions, as she thumbed through some fashion magazines, in search of some platform high heels. 

He felt an unassailable surge in his loins. No…this was definitely what he wanted. It was just that…just that…well, he kind of wished that Maia would show up sometime again so he could talk to her a little more. Her presence reassured him…and somewhere in the back of his brain, he wanted to get her comforting affirmation that he had not, in fact, made a mistake. But he didn’t have the power to summon her. He would just have to wait. 

A week later, Timothy was sitting in the passenger seat of his own car, his legs completely straight out on the car seat — they were not even long enough to dangle off the end of the seat. To his left and rising above him imposingly was Beatrice, whose eyes were focused on the road as she drove. She looked absolutely ravishing — she was wearing a long dress of black velvet that had an opening running down a good portion of one side, giving the viewer an impressive and tantalizing view of her shapely and curvaceous thighs, which had grown even more appealing within the previous week. In fact, every bit of her had grown, although she had not shown that she was aware of this herself. She rose high in the driver’s seat, her head brushing the car ceiling, as her gigantic breasts sat heavily on her chest. Her ass had grown even more enormous, and it positively spilled over both sides of the car seat. Timothy looked at her hand gripping the steering wheel. Her nails were manicured and painted the same jet black as her dress, and were sharpened so that they looked like claws. Her large hand and long fingers looked so powerful and strong…he glanced up at her face, which had grown even more beautiful the previous week. Her dark eye shadow and black lipstick made her look almost otherworldly…like some dark angel from the underworld. She was the most stunning, the most beautiful person he had ever seen. 

“Like what you see, huh?” came her slow cool voice, filling the car with its deep abundance. She glanced over at him sitting there in the passenger seat and snickered a little, the sound seeming to come out of her body almost involuntarily. 

“Well, for someone who looks like you…I can’t really expect any other reaction, now, can I? I mean, how could someone like you not be overwhelmed by someone like me?” Timothy looked down at his own outfit and body. She was definitely right — the difference between them was staggering. He was wearing a pair of kakis that Beatrice had bought for him online — they had been meant for preschoolers, which she did not fail to mention to him as she made the purchase. 

“Look at this, Timmy,” she had said, her eyes open in wonder. “It says here that the average height and weight for a kindergarten girl, a female kindergartener, Timmy, is 3 feet 8 inches and 46 pounds. You’re not only smaller than the average kindergarten girl, Timmy — she’d totally dwarf you!” 

Back in the car, Timothy recalled this conversation as he felt himself get hard. It was certainly humiliating, this knowledge that he was now no smaller than a preschooler. His kakis went along with a tiny little golf shirt that Beatrice insisted he tuck in. 

“We’re going to Clare’s party,” she had said to him as she dressed him, “and from what I hear it’s going to be quite fancy and luxurious. I don’t want you looking even more out of place than you already will, ok?”

“O-ok,” he had replied as she tucked his shirt in with her long fingers, playfully brushing his dick with her hand in the process. 

Even though he was excited about the prospect of Clare’s party, Timothy would have been lying to himself if he had said that he wasn’t nervous. In fact, he was very nervous, and, as Beatrice drove them along as the sun set in the sky along the highway, he knew that he had every reason to feel this way. He hadn’t seen the girls at work for over a week now — how much bigger and more beautiful had they gotten in that time? He had no idea. They also hadn’t seen him after he had shrunk even more this past week. At 2 feet 10 inches, he was now looking up Beatrice’s thighs whenever she stood over him. Even her vagina had grown out of his reach. He anxiously wondered how much taller Ashley had gotten, and how much Katie’s huge ass and hips had grown, and how much bigger Patricia’s huge rack had become…to say nothing of Clare. He thought about his boss with an uneasy kind of disquiet, even as he relished the excitement of the party. What was she going to say when she saw how small and pathetic he had become? What were the other girls going to say? How would they act? How would they treat him? He got goosebumps as his agitation and excitement mixd together and grew in intensity. 

It must have been obvious to Beatrice what was going on in his head, because in the midst of driving she glanced over at him and spoke. 

“A little nervous, huh?” She chuckled as she looked back ahead at the darkening road. “I’d be nervous too if I were you. Apparently a lot of higher-ups from your company are gonna be there. Can you imagine their faces when they see you, Timmy?” 

“I’m…I’m nervous, yes,” said Timothy in a small voice. “I hope…I hope they’re nice to me and not…uh…not too — ”

“Not too what?” cut in Beatrice, her eyebrows raising as a naughty smile spread across her face. “Not too much like me?” 

“N-no, no!” said Timothy, vehement in his attempts to fall into one of her traps. “No…I—I love how you treat me!” 

“Haha oh my god you do!” laughed Beatrice, nodding her head in agreement. “Any person with an ounce of self-respect would bristle at half of the stuff I do and say to you, but you’re such a total sub that you love it — all of it!” She reached her free hand over and ran her hand roughly through his hair, petting him just like she would pet an animal. Timothy felt his dick get even harder as he responded to Beatrice’s touch. Even with a little nonchalant touch like this, she was showing her power over him; her hand and fingers felt so strong, like they could literally make him do whatever she wanted. Even with this almost superficial contact, he could tell that even the slightest movement of her fingers would have manipulated his entire head and neck. 

“I just…I just don’t want them to feel…uh…too weirded out when they see me,” said Timothy after Beatrice had brought her hand away from him. 

“Oh well you’d better just forget about that one,” said Beatrice. “Everyone’s going to gawk at you — and there’s nothing you can do about it, little one. And really, who can blame them? You’re a 28-year-old man who is the size of a 3 year-old. Can you expect people not to stare?” 

“I—I guess not,” said Timothy, looking down at his hands. “It’s just…I, uh…it makes me feel kinda anxious…the idea of being the center of attention.”

“The center of attention?” said Beatrice derisively, laughing again. “Well don’t worry about that, Timmy. I’m sure people will stare and point at first, but I don’t think you have to worry too much about being the center of attention. That’s usually reserved for people who can actually hold people’s attention, you know. People who are interesting and who have engaging and provocative things to talk about. Or —” and here she smiled, “—people who are just hot.” 

Timothy looked down at his hands again…he knew that he was neither of those things, and that she was implying, as she so often did, that she was. And it was impossible to argue with her — he knew she was right. He felt a tiny little movement in the pit of his stomach as he felt himself, ever so slightly, shrink again. Beatrice’s put-downs still packed an emotional punch, but they were becoming so frequent that Timothy was beginning to get used to them. And because he was becoming more and more accustomed to them, they didn’t make him shrink as much as they had initially. 

“That is — ” Beatrice continued thoughtfully, clearly enjoying the build-up, “you won’t be the center of attention…unless some people have some things planned for you.”

“P-people? Plans? What plans?” he uttered, looking up sharply. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh did I say something out loud?” asked Beatrice in a mocking voice. “Sorry, I had meant to talk to myself.”

“B-but…but what…uh…what were you saying, about plans for me?” Timothy was really now starting to worry.

“Never mind, you tiny thing,” she said, that dark smile still on her face. “You’ll see soon enough.”

“B-but —” Timothy began in protest, his voice rising in pitch, but Beatrice cut him off. 

“You’re not disobeying me, are you little one?” she asked, her voice suddenly sounding dangerous. “I told you never mind.” 

Timothy obediently shut his mouth, bowing his head as Beatrice drove on. He didn’t know why, but suddenly he felt an urge to cry. He felt totally, utterly powerless. While he would have previously thought that he would enjoy this feeling, it was clear to him right now that he wasn’t enjoying it. He felt like he had absolutely no agency in his life…no power to do or say anything on his own. He felt like his personality, his humanity, was being slowly crushed out of him by his titanic girlfriend. It felt…tragic. He started to sniffle a little bit as he felt the tears beginning to gather at the corners of his eyes. 

“Oh, are you scared, little thing? Are you afraid of the party?” Beatrice’s voice was tinged with mockery, and yet there was something in it that was comforting. Was she…was she taking pity on him? Timothy looked up hopefully, his vision blurred by his tears. He nodded his head. 

“Aww my god,” said Beatrice quietly, almost to herself, “that’s so hot. Look at you, you pathetic little shell of a human, sitting there scared, in those ridiculous clothes…” Beatrice was getting excited, and Timothy sniffled louder, feeling that his brief hope of her empathy had been crushed. She didn’t care about him — she was just getting off on his fear. He suddenly felt a huge hand in his lap. She had reached over and was fondling him through his pants with her hand, which filled up his lap entirely. 

“There there my little tiny slave,” she whispered down at him as she continued to drive. “There’s no need to cry…mmmm, even though I love the taste of tears.” For a moment she took her hand out of his lap and brushed his face with her finger, collecting a few tears that she then brought up to her mouth. As Timothy watched, she sucked them up through her big lips, licking her big tongue around her mouth as she swallowed his tears. Then her hand was right back in his lap, fondling his erect length. 

“Don’t you worry,” she hummed down to him, “remember, you’re with me. You belong to me — and as long as you’re with me you’re safe from the big bad outside world. Understand, little one?” She continued kneading his cock insistently, and Timothy nodded his head as his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Beatrice was right — he was with her, and even though she made him feel small and low and pathetic, she was still his girlfriend. Timothy was making all of this work in his head as Beatrice fondled him. He blocked out the worries and fears that their relationship had taken on more of a master-slave dynamic instead of boyfriend-girlfriend. He repressed the thought that maybe Beatrice didn’t actually care about him and was instead just interested in draining his money and dominating the fuck out of him. And he restrained the realization, that had been growing in intensity in his head over the past week, that he had perhaps made a mistake in wishing for all of this from Maia. Beatrice’s big dominant hand in his crotch was enough to silence all these thoughts and worries, and his head lolled over in ecstasy as he looked up at her in adoration through misty eyes. She kept her face straight forward and simply hummed and cooed a little encouragement, bringing him to the edge of orgasm. 

“Look at that!” said Beatrice’s impressed voice a few minutes later. “That must be it — holy shit! Clare lives in a mansion!” Clare’s massive residence rose before them as they drove through the iron gates at the entrance. Her house looked to be four or five stories tall, and was awash in luxury. There was a huge courtyard in the front that sported a large fancy fountain with stone sculptures, and all around, the spacious estate showed evidence of a well-paid groundskeeping team. As Beatrice rounded the courtyard, a dapper valet came out to take the car. 

“Oh how impressive!” said Beatrice, clearly enjoying this whole experience already. “They have a valet!” She looked down at Timothy, whose erection was still tenting through his pants; he looked up at her pleadingly — she had literally brought him to the edge and then taken her hand away as they pulled up. 

“Oh please, not now Timothy,” she said harshly. “Do you really want to have a cum stain on your crotch as we walk in? I thought you were nervous about being the center of attention…well, that’s one great way to be the center of attention right off the bat, you know. A dwarf walks into a lavish party with cum all over his pants. Is that what you want?”

“Uhh..n-no,” said Timothy, acknowledging that Beatrice was right. He had gotten caught up in the pleasure she was giving him and had not been thinking straight. The valet took the car, and then Beatrice took Timothy’s hand up in hers, like he was her little son, and together they walked up the expansive stone stairs to Clare’s front door.


	8. The Party

A male servant answered the door, and, giving Timothy a quick and puzzled glance, escorted them inside. Clare’s house was over-the-top and opulent to say the least. The floors were made of fine marble, the ceilings were high, there was a huge crystal chandelier in the foyer, and statues and fine art seemed sprinkled around almost everywhere Timothy looked. The servant led them into the main living area, where a crowd of elegant well-dressed people were conversing. Servants walked in and amongst the crowd, bearing plates of champagne and fancy hors d’oeuvres. Timothy noticed that all of the servants were male. 

He also couldn’t help but notice that everyone in the crowd was eying this strange new couple with the same kind of puzzlement that had flickered on the face of the servant who had answered the door. People didn’t quite stop talking, but a number of conversations were interrupted as people turned to stare. Beatrice walked with her shoulders back and her head held up high, drinking in the attention proudly. She was wearing a pair of six-inch heels to go along with her stately black dress, so that she rose tall above most other people at the party. Timothy also could not fail to notice, as he looked around, that all the women looked taller, bigger, more voluptuous, more vigorous, more…beautiful than he could have ever imagined. He still thought that Beatrice was the hottest and most gorgeous person there, but looking around, it wasn’t by much. All the women were just stunning. 

And these women turned to look at this new couple, marveling at the difference in size. What was this? It looked like a mother and her young child at first glance, but then, as people scrutinized them, they could tell that something wasn’t quite right with this picture. The boy, if that’s what he was, had the face of someone who was older, and did not carry with him the freshness or the rounded features of youth. No, instead he looked…emaciated and weak, like he was actually an adult who had…somehow shrunken down and lost a lot of weight. Of course, this was in fact the reality. But these people could not be blamed for their puzzlement and curiosity. This little man or child or whatever he was only came up just past the knee of his gigantic female partner. And she looked deathly beautiful, almost ferocious in her gorgeous features, especially next to her companion, who had to hold his little arm all the way up to grasp the tips of his giant date’s fingers. It was quite the sight: startling, ridiculous, and yet…something else. Timothy looked meekly up at the eyes of several sumptuous and lavish women as they walked by, and he could see something in their eyes…a flash or sparkle of something. Were they…were they turned on by this whole spectacle? He knew at least that Beatrice was. 

“Well come on,” she said down to Timothy, “let’s go find Clare. You’re gonna have to point her out to me, you know, since I’ve only spoken to her on the phone.”

“Ok,” said Timothy.

“Pretty cool party, huh?” she said, looking straight down at him and giving him a wry smile. 

“Y-yeah, everyone’s so…so fancy.”

“Yep, a lot of successful people here,” said Beatrice brightly, looking around. “Must be strange company for you, huh, Timmy? You know if not for me you wouldn’t even be at this party.” 

“Oh…oh r-really?” 

“Really. If I hadn’t had that conversation with Clare….” and here she stopped, seeming to check herself as she smiled mischievously. “But enough of that — come on pipsqueak, let’s go meet your boss and co-workers.” 

A minute or so later they found them. Timothy had made a kind of move to try and lead Beatrice through the crowd, but she had just shook her head, chuckling as she took the lead. They had wandered around the main area for a minute or so before a group of tall, curvaceous young ladies had parted and Timothy saw them all. There was Clare with her husband, who was the CEO of Fizzy Pop. Timothy had seen him once before, but now he just….looked a lot smaller. He still stood at a respectable 6’1, but with Clare standing next to him, he looked tiny. 

Timothy could not avoid gasping out loud when he saw Clare: she had grown a great deal since he had last seen her, and she looked positively ravishing. She had on a tight bright red dress that clung tightly to her curves and only came up to her mid-thighs, which looked like they had swelled in size and appeared even fuller and more womanly than before. As usual, she was wearing a pair of tall heels, except these were more like Beatrice’s and made her a full 6 inches taller. Aside from her obvious gain in curves, what Timothy couldn’t believe was her height. The top of her 6’1 husband’s head only came up to Clare’s chin. 

But he didn’t have a lot of time to process all of this information about Clare, because he was looking to his right at Ashley, who rose up even taller than Clare in a dress of long, elegant, and silky white. Ashley was still wonderfully curvy and full in the hips, but her curves did not quite match Clare’s. Ashley made up for that in height, however — she was wearing heels too, and she actually looked to be just about as tall as Beatrice. Timothy’s little heart started pounding in his chest. 

There were Patricia and Katie. Patricia actually looked…super hot. There was no sign of the former acne on her face, and her cheekbones seemed to have lengthened a bit, opening up her face and bringing out her beautiful dark brown eyes. Her boobs were absolutely enormous, bigger than anyone else’s there…bigger, even, than Beatrice’s. A long dress of dignified green silk graced her pleasing contours. She was not wearing heels, but her head still rose high up, and Timothy could see that she was just as tall, if not a little bit taller, than Clare’s husband. 

But Katie…well, Timothy couldn’t help himself. He hardened helplessly in his pants at the sight of her. Even compared with the obvious beauty and hotness of the other three, Katie was in a league of her own. She was wearing a purple dress, a deep purple dress, that looked like it was about to explode off her, such was its tightness. Timothy was dumbfounded: Clare’s body was impressive, but Katie’s actually came close to matching Beatrice’s…maybe it actually did….her thighs were shapely and thick and grew up like twin swerving trees into the most massive ass that Timothy had ever seen. It was almost cartoonishly huge…and yet, it didn’t look odd or out of place. It was just mesmerizing to look at — Timothy could not escape the thought that Katie’s ass alone was probably bigger than his entire body. He felt goosebumps rise up on his skin as he found it more and more difficult to breathe. Katie was wearing heels — big, golden, gladiator-style platform heels that were tied around her lower legs in a series of complicated twists and ties. Her heels looked even taller than Clare’s, and they were — a full 7 inches. Timothy didn’t know why, but Katie seemed to have grown more than anyone else. She looked to be the same height at Clare now, and with her heels she rose up above her by an entire inch.

“Oh. My. God,” came Clare’s loud and deadpan voice, and the other three woman directed their eyes over to where Clare was looking, which was directly at Timothy. Ashley’s mouth dropped open. So did Patricia’s. Katie put a manicured hand over her mouth and let out a squeal of excitement. A bit of a hush swept across the room as the rest of the guests turned to look as the four women approached. People started pointing and whispering to each other as Clare extended her hand to Beatrice, the two joining in a solid respectful handshake. 

“Well it’s nice to finally meet you Beatrice,” said Clare brightly, her eyes betraying her admiration for Beatrice’s whole appearance. 

“The pleasure is all mine, it’s Clare, I assume?” said Beatrice, her eyes also going up and down Clare’s figure in appreciation. “You have quite the set-up here, Clare, I must say.” 

Clare smiled appreciatively as she gave a lofty toss of her hair. “Well,” she said, not even trying to hide her haughtiness, “when you do the right things to the right people — ” and she indicated to her husband, who smiled nervously, “—things just kind of have a way of…falling into place.”

Beatrice gave a hearty laugh. “Isn’t that the truth!” she said. She glanced down at Timothy, still holding his hand with her fingers, and gave her hand a little shake, so that his entire arm shook and quivered with her superior momentum. “Well Timmy,” she said down to him, “aren’t you going to compliment your boss on her lovely house and impressive promotion?”

“Oh…ah…y-yes,” stammered Timothy, overwhelmed by the size of the women as Ashley, Patricia, and Katie approached as well, “uh…n-nice house Clare, and…uhhh…it’s, it’s cool that you got…a, a promotion.” 

Clare put her hands on her knees as she bent down, looming over Timothy. “Well I’ll accept the compliment, Timmy, even if it does come from a tiny little man-child.” The rest of the girls snickered amongst themselves and Timothy blushed a deep shade of red. Clare stood back up to her full height. 

“Well girls,” she said, addressing the rest of the crew, “how about it? Have you all missed Timmy’s contributions this past week?” 

More snickering ensued and Ashley looked down at Timmy with something like pity in her eyes. Timothy noticed how much deeper and beautiful her eyes were as she regarded him. 

“Well…” said Ashley, “not really, to tell you the truth.” 

“Oh really?” came Beatrice’s mocking voice in fake bemusement, “and why is that?” 

“Well, we just…hired someone else,” said Ashley simply, looking down at Timothy and giving him a wink. 

“Yeah, and this new employee’s a little more…on top of it than Timmy ever was,” said Patricia with a laugh. “To begin with she’s at least normal-sized and doesn’t need a stepladder for every little task.”

“She?” blurted out Timothy, not being able to help himself. 

“Yes, she,” said Clare, her voice taking on a tinge of harshness. “What’s the matter Timmy, you don’t think a girl can do as good a job as you?” 

“N-no!” said Timmy, backpedaling into Beatrice’s big legs. “It’s just…I just…batch m-mixers are usually…uh…”

“Men?” shot in Katie, bending down so that her huge beautiful head seemed to be bent directly over Timothy’s cowering form. He felt her shadow against the bright lights of the chandeliers. “Yeah, that’s true, but, well…we decided that the…man…if we can really even call you that anymore…that we had for the job just wasn’t really up to speed with the rest of the women at the company. So we thought, why not just hire another woman?”

“And it’s paying off tenfold,” said Ashley quietly, still looking down at him. “She’s done an excellent job so far.” 

“Frankly speaking, Ashley’s right,” said Clare. “She’s ten times the worker you were. God knows how your work would compare to her now that you’re this tiny runt of a thing.” 

Timothy felt literally backed into a corner, and he was; his co-workers had surrounded him and had boxed him into Beatrice, who didn’t seem to be having any sympathy for his plight. His back was to her legs, and he could feel the unmistakable vibrations of her rumbling laughter through her skin. He was utterly trapped. 

“And he has the audacity to talk about certain jobs being for men only,” came Beatrice’s voice from high above. 

Patricia arched her eyebrows down at him as she shook her head. Katie couldn’t keep herself from laughing…Timothy couldn’t believe it — the sound of her laughter was like heavenly music to his ears, even though it was at his expense. 

“Well, we’ve come to learn better,” said Ashley calmly. 

“Indeed we have,” put in Clare as she placed her hands over her wide curvy hips. “I think our little Timmy here’s just coming to realize something.”

“Wh-what’s that?” asked Timothy. 

“That the smartest thing you ever did in your life was stick to the coattails of the women in your life…us and Beatrice here…so you could at least have something in life.”

“So he could have the crumbs!” said Katie, her eyes dancing in pleasure as she laughed again in her intoxicatingly musical way. The rest of the women joined in the laughter appreciatively, and Timothy could not help but shrink further into the legs of Beatrice, until he realized that he was actually shrinking a little bit again. He felt incredibly low, both physically and emotionally, lower than he had ever felt before. 

After a few more moments of hearty laughter, Clare clapped her hands. “Ok, enough chatter!” she said brightly. “Time for party games!” 

The rest of the room hummed in appreciation, and they all went into another room where Timothy saw a ring of chairs. He wondered what this could be about, and felt a kind of fear and dread in the pit of his stomach. 

“Let’s get old school up in here!” said Clare excitedly. “Time for musical chairs!” The party crowd laughed, seeming to appreciate the humor of the game, and everyone got into position around a chair. 

“Ooo come on little guy, let’s go!” said Beatrice excitedly. 

“Uhhhh, I think I’ll just…uh, watch you guys play,” he said timidly. 

“Oh no you don’t,” said Clare, hearing his reluctance. “I got a few chairs especially for you so that you’d at least stand a chance in this game — look!” And she motioned for him to look closer at the circle, and Timothy suddenly understood. About half the chairs were normal-sized, about a quarter of them were child-sized, and about another quarter of them were little stools that only rose about a foot or so off the floor. 

“See?” said Clare, laughing. “You should be honored, Timmy — I designed this game with you specifically in mind!” The other girls laughed, and Timothy looked around the room to see the other party women smiling down at him, trying their best not to giggle too derisively. Timothy couldn’t help but notice that the men at the party were a little…in the background. They weren’t really laughing much, and didn’t seem to understand or appreciate the jokes made at Timothy’s expense. Compared to their dates and partners, they just…looked bland, uninspired, dull, and uninteresting…all more or less were dressed in the same boring black suit. In contrast, every women at the party looked especially alive, vivacious, colorful, and powerful. The contrast was stark and overwhelming. 

“Ok, get into position!” called Clare, going over to the old-time CD player. “I’ll be in charge of the music.” Beatrice got behind a normal-sized chair; Timothy wanted to stay with her, but she shooed him away, over to one of the smallest stools in the circle. He found that he was next to Katie, who was standing behind a normal-sized chair, gripping its back with her big hands, standing tall and proud behind it as she glanced down at him and chuckled. 

“Ready, little Timmy?” she said with animation. “You better not lose on the first go-around or we’ll tease you without stopping for the rest of the night.” 

“Go!” said Clare as she put on a quaint old-time swinging jazz tune. Everyone started walking around in a circle. Timothy tried his best to keep up, and noticed that he had to take several steps for every single step that Katie took. He was only focused on keeping up, but she was having no trouble whatsoever and was clearly enjoying herself, shaking her huge ass up and down to the lively tune as she practically danced around in the circle. Timothy looked around and saw that many of the other women were also getting into it, throwing their huge curves around in time to the catchy music. 

“Stop!” said Clare suddenly, as she cut off the music. Everyone rushed to sit down in the nearest chair, and Timothy was relieved to find himself directly in front of one of the foot-high stools, upon which he immediately plopped himself down. He sighed in relief — he had done it! He hadn’t lost in the first round! For the first time that night, he smiled. He looked around. Everyone else had found a chair…everyone, that is, except Clare’s husband, who was looking around desperately for somewhere to sit, but finding nowhere. 

“Oohhh Charles,” called out Clare, clearly appreciating that her husband had lost early. “Guess being the big-shot CEO doesn’t cut it when you’re playing these good old fashioned party games! You’re out!” A number of the other women joined Clare in laughter, and Charles slunk off to the side next to his much taller and bigger wife, not looking very powerful or CEO-like at all. 

“All right, Charles, why don’t you remove one of the chairs for round two,” said Clare authoritatively. “Make it…uh…make it one of those little stools, why don’t you?” She glanced over at Timothy and smiled mischievously, knowing full well that by taking the smaller chairs away she was making the game harder for him. 

A minute later they were all going around again to the same fast-paced jazz music. Timothy found himself behind Patricia this time, and he was not able to prevent himself from staring at her shapely ass as she danced around in front of him. He could also see her enormous boobs swinging from side to side, even though he was directly behind her — that’s how big they were. 

“Stop!” said Clare again, and once more Timothy found himself in front of one of the foot-high stools. Being extra low to the ground, he was able to quickly sit down in it before Patricia had a chance. She had spotted the stool and had bent down her thick curvy legs to sit down, but she was coming from much higher up, and Timothy beat her to it. 

“Oooh, sorry Trish!” laughed Clare. “Looks like the midget beat you to it — I guess being tiny can come in handy from time to time!” 

“No fair Clare!” protested Patricia, laughing despite herself as she indicated down to the tiny stool he was sitting on. “He had a clear advantage that time! He didn’t even have to move to sit down!” 

“Well, that’s bad luck for you,” said Clare, laughing as well. “But just wait until little Timmy’s luck runs out and he has to try and sit in one of the grown-up chairs!” A host of good-natured female laughter followed as Patricia shook her head and left the circle. 

“Take another one of those stools with you, why don’t you, Trish?” said Clare. “Clearly this game is too easy for Timmy — he’s lasted two whole rounds. I have to somehow try and level the playing field, right?” 

“Serves the runt right,” said Patricia, swiping away another one of the stools with gusto. 

They were at it again a few moments later. Timothy swallowed nervously as he shuffled his little legs to keep up, appreciating that he was in front of Beatrice this time. She had given him a dark look, as if to say, ‘Don’t even think about making me lose.’ Her huge ass swung impossibly to the jazz music, and Timothy had to shake his head to clear it. He was determined to not lose this round, just to prove the girls wrong. 

“Stop!” called Clare, and Timothy saw that he was directly in front of one of the grown-up chairs. He tried and pull himself up on the seat, but he was struggling, as the actual seat part was even with his chest. He could hear the rustle of huge womanly asses plopping down in chairs around him, and a fearful desperation seized him. He stood back a couple steps and gave a running start, actually having to leap into the chair as his little body made contact with the plush cushion. He sank into the cushion a bit, but was horrified when, a moment later, he was completely crushed into it as he felt a titanic weight against his entire body. He could tell from the perfumed smell who it was — Beatrice had literally sat on his body as he lay there in the chair, crushing the air out of his lungs and throwing his entire world into darkness. 

“Oh no, I don’t think so!” Timothy could barely hear Clare’s muffled voice, so completely was he engulfed by Beatrice’s huge ass. “Little Timmy beat you to it, Beatrice — you’re out!” 

“Oh but come on!” he could hear her protest. She didn’t budge from her seat, and he started to struggle desperately against her butt to breathe. He may as well have been trying to push a boulder off his body. She wasn’t budging an inch. “He’s not even sitting down! This is musical chairs, not musical beds!” 

“She’s got a point, you know, Clare,” Timothy could barely hear Katie chime in brightly. He fought more and more desperately, but Beatrice wasn’t moving. 

“Well, it’s not Timmy’s fault if a normal chair is the size of a bed to him,” said Clare, chuckling. “And anyway, I didn’t think he had it in him, to actually get into one of those chairs. So I’m rewarding his effort and hard work by maintaining that, once again, you’re out Beatrice!” 

“Oh he is going to pay for this,” she hissed, and she kept her ass on his body for a few more moments, as if to emphasize once again how minuscule he was compared to her. She finally stood up abruptly, and Timothy gasped for air, positively gulping it down, not caring how he looked to the rest of the guests. He didn’t have time to catch his breath for long, though, because Beatrice had taken a fistfull of his shirt and had pulled him up to her face, smiling at him darkly. 

“Better be glad I’m having a good time, little pipsqueak,” she growled down at him threateningly. “Or else I’d punish you right here in front of everyone else. Just know it’s coming, little guy…it’s coming.” She released him and stomped out of the circle, snatching away one of the foot-high stools in the process.

“Oh, you read my mind, Beatrice,” said Clare merrily, “I was just going to say that I think we need to stop giving little Timmy here so many advantages. I mean, he might actually win this game otherwise.” 

“Oh, the little shit,” said Beatrice quietly, the danger oozing from her voice as she stood next to Clare, “he thinks that he can go against me, does he? Well we’ll see about that when we get home.”

“Oh Beatrice, it’s only a game!” said Patricia good-naturedly, who felt the dark energy of Beatrice’s anger and, despite not particularly caring for Timothy, felt a little afraid for him.

“Ok everyone, go!” called Clare, turning on the music again, enjoying watching Timothy as he tried to keep up with a buxom blond in front of him, with Katie dancing and shaking her curves flirtatiously behind him. Clare couldn’t help but smile. 

“Oh but don’t you see, Trish,” said Clare, turning to Patricia, “it isn’t just a game for her. Beatrice doesn’t have an “off” switch, don’t you see? She’s in a dynamic with Timmy…like, a 24-hour type thing.” 

“A…dynamic?” asked Patricia, momentarily puzzled. 

“Yeah, a dynamic — isn’t that right, Beatrice? You’re dominant and he’s submissive, like…all the time, right? There’s never a time when you too are…just…equal, right? Approaching each other as equals?” 

Beatrice smiled a not-too-pleasant smile and looked out at the game, watching as Timothy was almost run over by a joyously dancing Katie. “Well…I mean, I’m not opposed to the idea of equality in a relationship, but…well…look at him. How could I possibly feel like that was equal with me?” 

“You see her point, Trish?” asked Clare, laughing. 

“So…you’re dominant over him all the time?”

“All the time,” repeated Beatrice, nodding her head. “I mean, how could I not be? The little shit hangs on my every waking breath. I can make him hard just by looking at him…I can make him cum just by breathing a certain way.”

“Wow…really?” asked Patricia. The blatantly sexual nature of Beatrice’s words did not seem to faze either of the two women, although Beatrice noticed that Charles, Clare’s CEO husband, had given her an odd look when she mentioned “cumming.” She shot him back a flashing look that was so aggressively intimidating, so full of confidence, that he actually slunk away from the group. In contrast to Clare’s husband, Patricia was staring at Beatrice with a look of admiration on her face. 

“Yeah, so it just follows along logically that I make all the rules,” continued Beatrice as she watched with satisfaction as Timothy kept looking over his shoulder fearfully at Katie, who was sticking out her tongue at him and making fake roaring noises as she danced along behind him. “And like the little sub that he is, Timmy follows them…except, well, tonight something crazy got into him and he thought he could get away with making me lose. He’ll be thinking differently later on.” She stared intently at Timothy for another moment before she burst out laughing. “But thankfully I’m having a great time with you all — it’s been lovely to meet you!” 

“Well we’re all pleased to meet you as well, Beatrice,” said Clare happily. “The more women can meet each other and become friends, independent of their husbands, the better.” 

“Here, here!” agreed Patricia. 

“Stop!” called Clare suddenly, halting the music. Everyone still playing rushed around to find a seat. Once again, Timothy as lucky and found himself right in front of one of the child-sized chairs when the music stopped. With a pleased sigh of relief he quickly sat himself down, enjoying how his body actually seemed to fit into this chair. He looked around and saw that the only other man who was playing was the only one without a seat, and was forced to leave, obeying Clare and taking the last stool with him. Timothy took a deep breath. It was going to be harder than ever to win now, but at least he had a few smaller seats still in the circle that worked to his advantage. He didn’t know why he was so intent on winning a meaningless game of musical chairs, but if he had thought harder he would have realized that he was trying to salvage some kind of desperate pride. Beatrice and the girls had been beating him down all night, and he wanted to show that he was still worth something. 

“Found the perfect chair, huh Timmy? I didn’t get so lucky this time.” Katie’s musical voice teased at him, and he looked to his right. She was sitting in one of the child-sized chairs, identical to the one he was sitting in, except that the effect was absolutely comical. She was so huge that Timothy couldn’t even see the chair she was sitting in. Her massive ass and the hulking curves of her hips completely obfuscated it. Her knees were bent up in a crouch, giving everyone a free look almost all the way up her gloriously think thighs. It almost looked like she was just sitting on the ground. Timothy couldn’t believe it — she was sitting in the same exact chair that his was. 

“Wow, Katie — guess you had to improvise this round, huh?” laughed Clare. 

“Yeah for a minute there I had to pretend like I was Timmy,” said Katie, laughing herself. 

“Well, now you know what it’s like,” chuckled Ashley, who was sitting in one of the adult-sized chairs. “Except I think your ass takes up a little more room than his does.” 

“You think?” asked Katie sardonically. She turned to Timothy. “You know what I think? I think my ass is bigger than your entire body put together. What do you think, Timmy?” 

“I…I…don’t know,” he said in a trembling voice, knowing full well that Katie was right. 

“Oh it’s not even close,” said Beatrice. “Kate, I must say, your ass is one of the most impressive things I’ve ever seen.” 

“Oh wow!” beamed Katie, still from her siting position, “that means a lot coming from you, Beatrice! I mean…look at you!” 

“Oh please — look at all of us!” said Beatrice, spreading her arms wide and speaking loudly enough to address the whole room. “All the women here are so fucking hot! I’ve never seen such a glamorous gathering of women…with such listless, boring…short men.” The room erupted into an appreciative roar of female laughter. Objectively, looking around the room, it was plain to see that Beatrice was right. All the women were taller than all the men. And most of them were a good deal taller…by an entire foot in some cases. In particular, Clare, Ashley, Patricia, and Katie, together with Beatrice, stood the tallest. And they were all so beautiful, so curvy, so ravishing, so full of life. Every woman seemed to carry an impressive amount of luscious, female weight, and every one of them seemed to carry it effortlessly. As he sat there in his little kid’s chair, Timothy’s mind was blown. He was literally overwhelmed by the sheer force of all this female size and power around him. And despite the fact that he felt he had lost control of his shrinking, that he was regretting wishing for a dominant girlfriend, that he was lamenting his overall lack of power to make his own life choices, he could not suppress an audible sigh of pleasure as he closed his eyes for a moment, soaking in the true delight of being in the presence of so many huge, tall, dominant, confident, and powerful women. 

*CRACK*

His eyes shot open in alarm as he heard something breaking, and looked over to his right to see that Katie actually was sitting on the floor now, with her mouth hanging open in mock surprise. The broken shards of the chair she had been sitting on now littered the floor. 

“Ooops!” she said, putting a big manicured hand over her mouth. Her curves were shaking in laughter, and pretty soon everyone else was joining in, laughing at what had just happened. 

“Well, I guess you took care of that chair, Katie,” laughed Clare. “And now we’re down to our final three contestants! Ashley, Katie, and little Timmy. We have one child chair and one adult chair. Who’s going to take the prize?!” After instructing one of the male servants to clean up the shard of broken chair, Clare put the music back on. After about half a minute she stopped it, and it became clear to everyone what was happening. Ashley didn’t even have a chance this time. Katie was right in front of the adult chair, and Timmy was right in front of the kid’s chair; Ashley had nowhere to go. It was obvious — Clare was making sure that Timothy stayed in the game, just so that she, Beatrice, and everyone else could keep having fun watching him struggle to keep up. Ashley looked over at Clare and smiled as she pointed an accusatory finger in her direction. Clare arched her eyebrow in response, shaking her head as she smiled. 

“Well what do you think, Beatrice?” she asked. “Take away the kid’s chair or the adult chair?” 

“Timmy’s been given way too much preferential treatment,” responded Beatrice immediately. “Take away the kid’s chair — this is an adult party, after all. If Timmy think he can play with the adults in the room let’s see him try.”

“Can’t argue with that,” said Clare. 

A few moments later Timothy and Katie were circling the single chair as the music played one final time. Katie was looking down at him, teasing as she made faces down at him. To an outside observer, it really did look like a mother or a big sister was chasing her son or little brother around a chair. Timothy tried to meet her glance with confidence, but it was impossible. When he did manage to look up into Katie’s eyes, he did so with fear and trepidation. He was beyond intimidated by her presence. Why was he having this reaction to Katie?! It made sense in his head why he would feel this way in Beatrice’s presence, because she had real power over him, and could make him do whatever she wanted. But surely Katie didn’t have this power too….right!? Surely if she tried to do anything to him, Beatrice would stop her, right!? As he circled the chair with her, feeling more and more like he was the prey of a tigress, he had a dark realization: he had no idea what Beatrice would let other people do to him. He really didn’t know — he had thought, when he made his wish to Maia, that his microphiliac girlfriend would protect him, nurture him, keep him safe…but now, looking up at Katie’s hungry eyes and then glancing nervously over at Beatrice (whose nostrils were dilated in excitement as she watched the end of the game), he became suddenly aware of something that scared him: he did not feel safe. At all. He couldn’t trust Beatrice to protect him. He didn’t know what was going to happen. 

“Stop!!” called Clare, a little more dramatically since it was the last time. Timothy’s skin came to attention as he realized that he was the closest to the opening of the seat. This was it! He was going to do it — he was going to win! He made a scampering, running leap for the seat. He didn’t care that he probably looked ridiculous to everyone else at the party — he didn’t care that it was obvious that he cared way too much (far more than any self-respecting adult would) about the outcome of this game. He had one goal in mind — to prove them all wrong. To show that even though he knew they were playing with him, he could beat them at their own game. 

But as he sailed through the air towards his cushioned salvation, he saw something that made his heart go up into his throat. Katie had been standing on the opposite side of the chair, far away from the actual seat. There would have been no way that she could have gotten in the seat before Timothy had she been playing against another adult-sized human. But she wasn’t — she was playing against him, and so she had a few extra seconds to decide what to do. And as she watched Timothy take a running start to jump into the seat, she suddenly realized what to do. She stood up to her full height, extended one of her long thick legs, and stepped over the back of the chair. The chair head was almost five feet tall, but being as tall as she was, that didn’t stop Katie. She then stepped with her other leg, and from his airborne position, Timothy realized in horror, too late, that Katie had literally stepped over the back of the chair and was now settling her huge ass down comfortably in the chair. There was no chance of redirecting his motion; he was headed straight for her crotch, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. With a plop, he landed in Katie’s lap — it felt like he was landing on a bed full of big, soft pillows, except there was a certain firmness…a certain strength, to the plushness of her upper thighs. 

“Ooooo look at that, Timmy!” called out Clare ecstatically, as the rest of the women “ooed” and “aaah-ed” as they laughed. “Now the tables are turned, huh? Not quite in time! Ladies and gentlemen…well, mostly ladies…let me introduce you to Katie — our winner!” The room erupted in exaggerated female cheers. Timothy couldn’t see all the commotion at first, because he was sprawled out face-first in Katie’s lap. He moved to rise up, but with horror he felt Katie’s big hand reach down and extend over his back, holding him in place, face-down on her crotch. 

“Oh, ladies, ladies, everyone…” he could hear her say in mock-formality, “you’re too kind, really! Too kind!” He heard her clear her throat, and once again he struggled, this time a little harder, to rise up. But she held him down without any apparent effort at all. 

“I’d like to thank, first of all, Clare for holding this lovely party at her lovely abode — to Clare everyone!” 

“To Clare!” came all the female voices. Timothy could only hear a muffled version of all of this, and started flailing his limbs. But Katie reached down her other hand and held his legs in place, easily securing both of his arms behind his back with her other hand. Slowly but surely, she pressed his face down into her crotch. 

“And I’d also like to thank my parents, for giving me amazing genes,” Katie went on jokingly, as the women joined in on the joke and respectfully applauded. Timothy was really starting to struggle for air now, and cried out. But Katie was pressing him even harder into her snatch, which absorbed every bit of sound he made. He was trying desperately to breathe...attempting to take huge gulps of air. But he could only manage to inhale the stuffy humid air that was emanating from her pussy. His nostrils were filled with her spicy, almost sweet-smelling stench. If he had not been in such a predicament, he would have definitely enjoyed the smell. But he was literally starting to pass out now. 

“But most of all,” said Katie impressively, “I want to thank little Timmy here. His tiny stature is the real key that made my victory possible.” Timothy was now screaming into her lap, his lungs totally empty of air, his limbs all held at bay by Katie’s strong hands. He could do absolutely nothing — he couldn’t even move his little body, such was Katie’s strength. He felt himself drifting down, down, down, into unconsciousness. 

“You know,” continued Katie above, still addressing the party, “I was shocked a few weeks ago when I realized that Timmy was shrinking. I think we all were, right?” A murmur of assent rose up, with the girls nodding their heads. “But really, in these last few weeks, little Timmy’s shrinking has made me realize something that I should have realized a long time ago.”

“What’s that Katie?” asked Clare. 

“That women are the superior beings,” said Katie, silently orgasming as she felt Timothy’s body go completely limp on her lap. “That we’re more intelligent, more beautiful, more creative, more dynamic, more everything.” 

“Totally agree, Katie,” said Clare, nodding her head. “Heck,” she continued, “just looking around this party, it seems to me that we women are bigger and stronger than our men as well. Take a gander, ladies! Am I not right?” It was all quite clear — the women were physically bigger, taller, and stronger than the men there. “And to think,” continued Clare, “that men are supposed to be the bigger and stronger ones.” 

“Said who?” asked Beatrice. “That’s not what I see. I think, in this day and age, women are finally starting to realize their place in this world — as the natural superiors, the rulers of the species.” 

“I mean, we literally grow life inside of us,” said Patricia, grabbing her huge boobs and squeezing them. “All men do is shoot their gross little sperm in — that’s all they do.”

“And we can make them squirt it better than they can squirt it themselves,” laughed Beatrice. 

“There’s no contest, really,” agreed Ashley quietly, her face blushing a little from the sexual nature of the conversation. “I don’t know why we didn’t all see it before. We should be the ones in charge.” 

“Well, let’s thank our little Timmy here for helping us all realize,” laughed Katie. “To Timmy, everyone!” 

“To Timmy!” came the din of strong, powerful, lovely-sounding female voices. But Timothy didn’t hear any of it. He had been gently dragged down into unconsciousness during Katie’s speech, and was now passed out cold face-down in her lap. 

A few minutes later he had come to and was being held in Beatrice’s arms like a baby. Katie had handed his unconscious form to Beatrice, with a bit of a contrite look on her face. 

“I…I hope you don’t mind, Beatrice,” she had said, “but…but I just couldn’t help myself. He was struggling against me, and…well, I — ”

“There’s no reason to apologize, Katie,” cut in Beatrice, who was smiling as she received the flopping form of her unconscious boyfriend. “Trust me, I completely understand. I was watching what you were doing, and there’s not way I was gonna not let you have that.” 

“Really?” said Katie appreciatively. “Aww, thanks for being so understanding, Beatrice. I would have asked your permission before, but…but it just kind of happened.” 

“Those are some of the best moments,” laughed Beatrice as she draped Timothy’s lifeless body over her shoulder and started to smack his back a little to get him to wake up. “The impromptu ones, the ones that aren’t planned. They just kind of…happen. And they’re like magic.” 

“Well, it certainly felt like that,” said Katie. “Honestly, since Timmy hasn’t been at work, I know I’ve been feeling a certain…withdrawal…from playing with him.” 

“I think we all have,” said Clare, “right, girls?” Ashley and Patricia each nodded as they eyed each other and smiled. 

“Well, no need to suffer too much,” said Beatrice, smacking Timothy harder on the back when he didn’t respond. “You all should come over to my house one day and we can all play with him together.” 

“Oh that sounds lovely!” said Katie. “Where do you live?” 

“Where Timmy does,” said Beatrice, finally succeeding in bringing him out of his unconsciousness. He gasped and sputtered for a few moments, and then started to cry before Beatrice shushed him with a dangerous look. “It used to be his house, but now it’s my house, isn’t it, little boy?”

Timothy nodded reflexively though his tears. “And it’s not much of a house, really,” said Beatrice. “Because, you know…it used to be Timmy’s. But that’s all going to change pretty soon.” 

“Oh?” asked Clare inquiringly. “Do tell…” 

Beatrice bent down and put Timothy down on the floor, where his weak, skinny little legs wobbled for a moment. He had apparently lost even more height…or Beatrice had grown…or both. His head now only came up to her knees. Without bending her legs, Beatrice bent down luxuriously, looking shockingly beautiful in her dark dress and make-up. From Timothy’s vantage point she looked fierce and formidable as she loomed over him, not unlike Maia.

“Little toy, I am going to talk some business right now with these wonderful ladies here. It’s not really business that concerns you, so why don’t you run off and try to find something else to do while we talk.” 

“S-something else…to…d-do?” stammered Timothy. 

“Yes, go do something else. Right now. It’s not a complicated order,” said Beatrice calmly down to him.

Timothy kept staring up at her for a moment longer, feeling hurt and inferior that he would just be dismissed like this. But, even as far down as he was, he saw the dangerous glint in Beatrice’s dark eyes, and knew better than to disobey her. His head was still pounding with blood from his recent unconsciousness, and he slunk his shoulders sadly as he sidled away.


	9. Another Visit From Maia

“So, anyway,” said Beatrice as she watched him go, making sure he was out of earshot, “I’ve been making a shit ton of money on my domination website.” 

“You run a domination website!?” said Katie excitedly, barely managing to keep from squealing out in pleasure. 

“Yes,” said Beatrice, smiling as she appreciated Katie’s enthusiasm. She liked all these women, especially Clare, but she had to admit: Katie was by far her favorite. She was a natural dom who had never really realized who she was. But Beatrice was heartened to see that the more time she spent around Timothy, the more it came out. “And I do all kinds of domination — financial, verbal, 24-hour, jerk off instructions, blue-balling, dick cages…you name it. And men are literally tripping over each other to sign up.” 

“I’m not surprised,” said Clare. “I don’t know why, but recently I’ve just noticed that women are a lot more front and center, you know? It’s like what Katie was saying before. I think all of us, both men and women, are just starting to realize who should really be in charge.” 

“Agreed,” said Beatrice, “and I just had a thought a few minutes ago — I’ve so enjoyed meeting all of you. Really, it’s been such a pleasure — I haven’t had such a good time at a party since…well, never, really. I almost feel giddy, kinda like I did at parties a few years back when I was in high school.”

“A….few years back!?” asked Patricia. “What…uh…how old are you, Beatrice?” 

“I’m 22,” she said smiling knowingly. “About to turn 23.” 

“Oh my fucking god,” said Katie, gasping in admiration.

“Holy shit,” said Ashley, grinning as she shook her head. 

Clare looked her up and down silently for a moment. “Well damn, Beatrice,” she said, breaking into a smile from ear to ear, “precocious” is one thing, but…well…I think I can speak on all our behalves and say that you are one impressive young woman.” The other girls nodded vigorously in assent. The color came into Beatrice’s cheeks, a rare shade of pink…it wasn’t usual for her to blush like this, but…she was very impressed with all these tall gorgeous women, and it meant a lot to her to know that they were impressed with her too. 

“Well I appreciate it, ya’ll,” said Beatrice, her eyes dropping for a moment in modesty. But they were up again a second later, paradoxically darker and brighter than ever. “But — I was just saying that I had had a thought a few minutes ago. I’ve so enjoyed meeting you all that I wanted to share this news of my dom website. It’s doing so well…I’m literally making multiple thousands of dollars a week, and I only just started it recently.” 

“Wow,” said Clare, clearly impressed. The other girls nodded their heads in kind. 

“And…well, I just wanted to see if any of you wanted in on it,” said Beatrice. “I’ve seen how you interact with Timmy, and I think all of you have awesome dominant instincts…especially you, Katie,” she said, reaching over and pinching Katie’s shoulder. Katie pretended to dismiss Beatrice’s compliment with a laugh and a wave of her hand, but everyone could see from her blushing that she was extremely pleased with Beatrice’s praise. 

“We’d love to,” said Clare automatically. 

“Count me in, of course,” giggled Katie. 

Patricia paused a moment. “Well…I certainly like teasing men with these,” she said, holding up her gigantic breasts with her hands. “Do you think these would attract submissive men?” 

“Are you fucking kidding, Trish?” asked Katie incredulously. “Of course they would! You’ll have all these subby little men slavering over themselves to look at pictures of your on their smartphones. You’ll fucking own them!” Patricia smiled and bounced her boobs, feeling vindicated. 

“I’m in,” said Ashley quietly. “I think they’ll appreciate my curves and ass, even though they’re not quite as big as Katie’s or Beatrice’s.” 

“Oh my god would you stop,” said Clare. “They’re big enough, Ash. And look at you! You’re so fucking tall! And you have that calm, confidant, dominant look about you. They’ll lose their minds when you just look at them through their computer monitors.” 

“She’s right, you know,” said Beatrice, patting Ashley on the shoulder. Ashley blinked her big beautiful eyes as she smiled, imagining the future. “Well, that’s settled then. Why don’t you all come over next week and we can talk business. Sound good?”

“Perfect,” said Clare. “And, just since we’re being so open with each other about our business dealings, I think I should tell you Beatrice, that I’ve just now made a number of purchases on the stock market for my employees.” 

“You did what?!” asked Katie. 

“Well, you three have done such an amazing job for me these past few months,” said Clare, “and, since I definitely have the means now, I wanted to show you my appreciation. I bought each of you a large amount of stock in Fizzy Pop, Inc, as well as a few other stocks. We’re now some of the largest shareholders of the company.” 

“Wow!” said Ashley, embracing Clare, “that’s so awesome of you!”

“Awww that’s amazing — you’re incredible Clare!” said Patricia and Katie joyously, joining Ashley in hugging their boss. 

“Oh but…it’s…the least…I…could do,” said Clare as her employees hugged the air out of her. Beatrice looked on with a smile on her face. 

“See?” she said, indicating to the happy foursome of women, “this is how a company should be run. No backstabbing, no cutthroat behavior, no terrible politics. Just good hard work rewarded.” 

“Oooo I can’t wait till next week!” said Katie, clapping her hands. 

Elsewhere, Timothy was wandering around aimlessly. It was almost midnight, and he was starting to feel very sleepy. The sheer weight of all that had happened at the party so far, both literal and figurative, was starting to feel like too much. He just needed some good old fashioned sleep to clear his head. He tried wandering amongst the other party guests, who were getting increasingly rowdy due to drink, but the women just made him feel so incredibly tiny and insignificant that he literally had to make sure no one accidentally kicked him with their legs. One time, he was passing a young woman who had her back turned to him, and, as he passed, she suddenly pivoted, her big ass catching him in the side of the face and knocking him to the ground. Dazed, he had gotten up to see her walking away — she hadn’t even noticed. 

After that incident, he felt like being around adults was too dangerous, and he finally decided that the safest place for him to go was the foot of the big, luxuriously winding staircase. He sat on the bottom step. It fit his body like a full-sized chair, and he put his head in his hands, trying to collect his thoughts. 

He suddenly realized how sweaty he was; he had to get some air. Walking quickly through the party, doing his best to avoid people, he made his way towards the balcony doors. He made sure to avoid the throng of Beatrice, Clare, and the rest of the girls, who were laughing loudly together, obviously enjoying themselves. With considerable effort, he pushed open one of the doors and walked out onto the balcony and into the night. It was warm and muggy, offering little relief from the heat of the party inside. At least there was something of a breeze blowing.

Standing on the balcony’s edge, he wasn’t even able to rest his arms on the columned marble fence…he was actually staring through the columns out at the dark landscaped extends of Clare’s estate. He could see a fair amount from here, since the balcony was on the second story. He closed his eyes, enjoying a moment’s peace as he tried to calm and soothe his rapidly churning mind. It was going to be ok…it was going to be…ok….

The breeze suddenly kicked up slightly, and the tell-tale scent of sweet mature roses filled his nostrils. Maia…he opened his eyes and staggered back in surprise. Her face was looming over him — she was standing down below on the lawn, and she was so tall that she rose all the way up past the marble guard-fence and over Timothy’s head. 

“Hello little one,” she breathed in her deep and impossibly sexy voice. “Having a good time?” 

“N-no, actually,” said Timothy, recovering himself and trying to stand up to the goddess as tall as he could. “I don’t…I, uh…I didn’t realize that it would be like this.” 

“Well I did try and warn you,” said Maia warmly, a kind smile lighting up her deathly gorgeous face. “But you were in such a hurry…such a hurry. You didn’t stop to think.” 

“But I — I didn’t know,” he said desperately, throwing up his hands, “I didn’t know!” He felt like arguing with her, even though it didn’t feel like the right thing to do. “Can…can I really be blamed for stuff that I didn’t know about!?” 

“No one is blaming anyone,” said Maia calmly, her voice infusing the air like syrup. She cocked her head to the side, her eyes going from black to a deep green, and then back to black again. “Unless, of course, you’re blaming yourself.” 

“I’m not…I’m not blaming myself,” said Timothy in frustration. “I just…I’m just…confused. That’s all.” 

Maia laughed a silvery laugh. A huge shape suddenly rose up before him, seemingly out of the sky, and Timothy realized that she had brought her arm up and was extending it down, her huge clawed hand outstretched and open. He felt an instinct to bolt away, but he knew it was pointless and remained frozen in place, allowing Maia’s hand to encompass him. He couldn’t believe how gigantic she was — her hand went easily all the way around his body. She picked him up without any apparent effort, brought him down to the lawn, and deposited him gently at her feet. He was now standing directly in front of her, and was completely in awe of her size. The top of his head didn’t even reach halfway up her shin. He looked up her huge voluptuous leg, and past the thin gossamer threads of her see-through green and black dress that moved wispily in the breeze. Her hips, her breasts…her entire body looked even more bountiful, vigorous, and beautiful than he could have believed possible. She was without a doubt a goddess incarnate…that much was for sure. He had to step back a few paces to see her face past her breasts. 

“What’s confusing about this, tiny man?” she inquired, her eyebrow going up as she indicated to her augmented body with her lovely hands. 

“I…no, not the, uh….shrinking,” he said, trying to find the words to describe what he was feeling. “That’s not the confusing part…it’s just the…the…” Maia stood there patiently with her hands on her thick hips, blinking slowly as her full lips upturned in a close-lipped smile. 

“The other stuff,” finished Timothy lamely. “It’s…the other stuff that feels complicated. How everything seems…different…when I’m this small.” 

“Mmmm,” purred Maia, nodding her great head down at him, “and of course, it’ll be even more different…as you keep shrinking.” 

“B-but, n-no! No Maia!” he called up desperately. “I don’t wanna shrink anymore! I don’t wanna get any smaller! I’ve had enough! Please! Please make it stop!” 

Maia continued smiling down at him as her mouth parted in that same silvery laugh. Her eyes opened wider and quickly went through a rapid series of colors as she laughed at him, shaking her head. 

“Maia! Please! Please!!” cried Timothy, stumbling over to her leg and clutching it desperately. Her flesh was soft and cool, yet undeniably strong and firm. His body wrapped around her lower leg as shut his eyes tightly, begging and pleading to the sound of her laughter in his ears, to no avail. He had no idea how long this went on — time seemed to stand still as he fought in his mind to direct his intention to the goddess’s will, hoping beyond hope that he could somehow convince her to stop this torment, this curse that he had brought upon himself. With a sudden sweet-smelling gush of wind, he felt her presence leave him and he opened his eyes. He was standing on the balcony again, alone, with only the trailing hints of rose-scented breeze left as an indication of the recently-departed divine presence. 

The balcony door opened and Beatrice came out. 

“There you are,” she said, stumbling a bit as she walked toward him. She had clearly had a few drinks. She reached down to take him roughly by the hand, but quickly realized with a knowing smile that she couldn’t even reach it. Timothy didn’t know how he could still be surprised, but he was taken aback by her presence. She had grown even more. 

“As much as I’d love to stay,” she said as she rose back up, shooing him towards the door, “it’s time to go home. I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow, you know. Some of us have to work.” She chuckled as she bent down to ruffle his hair. “You’re probably thanking your stars you have someone like me,” she said. “You know I have tons of male clients who would literally sell their homes and leave their wives and families if it meant they could be with me…you know that?” 

“Uhhh…y-yeah, of…of course,” said Timothy, distracted by how huge she seemed. The top of his head was exactly at her kneecap, which looked to him like it was as big as a large plate. As they went in through the balcony door, Beatrice actually had to duck her head a little to keep from hitting her head. She was a couple inches taller than the door. 

“Oh will you look at that!” said Clare, “my big tall French balcony doors can’t even contain you, Beatrice!” 

“Haha, well you and the girls aren’t too far behind,” laughed Beatrice. “Although I have always been a big girl.” 

“Too big for 8-foot doors, apparently,” laughed Clare. Timothy couldn’t believe his ears. 8 feet?! Beatrice was 8’1 or 8’2?!? 

“8…f-feet?!” he couldn’t help but squeak up to Clare. 

“What’s that?” she asked roughly, clearly affected by drink, bending down exaggeratedly as she brought her hand to her ear. “You’re gonna have to speak up, little mouse. I can’t hear you from way up here.”

“Th-those d-doors are…8 feet tall?” he stuttered. 

“Uh…yeah,” said Clare, as if it was the dumbest question she had ever heard. 

“So y-you’re all…y-you’re all that tall? L-like almost 8 f-feet t-tall?” He didn’t know why, but it was important to him to make sure he wasn’t imagining all of this. His mind was still reeling from seeing Maia again and he wanted some grounding. 

“Fuck almost,” said Clare. “Beatrice is clearly taller than that — what are you getting at, Timmy?” 

“I just…y-you g-guys are growing,” said Timothy, unable to contain himself. It was so obvious to him — he was just a little over knee-high to almost all of the female guests at the party. He glanced around and didn’t even see any of the men. Had they left? Gone to bed? Whatever was going on, it was clear to him that during the party, these women had all grown considerably. And they were all so beautiful…so strikingly beautiful. 

“Uh, I think he’s confused,” said Clare, standing up and addressing Beatrice. “I think he’s confusing his shrinking with us growing.” 

“Haha oh my god,” said Beatrice, laughing. She looked down at him, shaking her head. “Yep, it’s definitely time to go. He’s going batty. But see you all next week?” 

“Yes!” said Clare, to the enthusiastic assent of the rest of the girls. “We’re so looking forward to it, Beatrice!” 

After farewell embraces, Beatrice led Timothy out of the mansion and caught an uber back home. She hadn’t forgotten his little stunt in musical chairs, and Timothy wasn’t able to lay down to sleep until after she had stuck her fingers up his ass and forced three ejaculations from his exhausted balls. For additional punishment, she made him sleep on the sofa, while she got to enjoy the luxury of his bed. As he lay there on the sofa, tired and dejected, he suddenly got the urge to go online. After surfing through random news articles for a minute or so, he came to his familiar online landing pad: giantesscity. He realized as he stared at the fetish forum that it looked fresher than it had in a while — it must have been because, for the past couple weeks, he hadn’t even gone online once, let alone onto his tried and true fetish site. He hadn’t needed to. Maybe it was a sign that things weren’t going so well that he was back. The heavy sound of Beatrice’s breathing reached his ears. She was asleep — he was safe to browse around a little. 

He clicked into the “Size Lounge” tab and looked down the various conversational threads. “Do You Have An Unusual Fetish?” by Katie_May81…“Who Would You Cast as a 50-Foot Woman” by ChrisMWaters…“How Did You Get This Way?” by joyce…all the familiar tags and topics that he had searched through over and over…suddenly one of the titles caught his eye: “What If You Could Shrink Yourself — Would You Do It?” by IronWaffle….the thread was a popular one; it had five pages worth of responses. Timothy quickly clicked on it, not knowing why his heart had started to beat faster. He browsed through the responses. Many of them answered in the affirmative. “Hell yeah I would,” said one user. “Without a doubt, yes,” said another. “Even though I know there would be drawbacks I couldn’t even imagine, I wouldn’t care — I would absolutely do it,” said yet another user.

Timothy could feel himself getting frustrated with all these haphazard responses. Clearly, these people had absolutely no clue what they were talking about. As he continued to browse he was heartened to notice that some of the users were responding more reasonably. “I know that my dick would answer yes to this question,” said one of the users, “But my brain emphatically says no. I wouldn’t want to give up the power I have as an adult in this world just for sexual pleasure.” 

“Exactly,” muttered Timothy in agreement. He kept browsing. “No way,” said another user. “This fetish exists in my mind, and that’s where it should stay. Anything else and I risk losing everything that I’m proud of.” Timothy felt his heart sink a little — he never really had much to be proud of to begin with. He suddenly wondered if that’s why he had been so eager to ask Maia to make all his fantasies come true. He wondered if, because he had had nothing going for him, he was so quick to dismiss the negative consequences of his fantasies becoming real-life. He bent his head a little into the light of his laptop screen, which to him looked like a big-screen TV. That was it…that was absolutely what had happened. His life had been boring and uneventful, with no accomplishments…nothing to show for almost being 30 years old. And that was why he had been so foolish and run headlong into this nightmare.

He felt an abrupt desire to warn the other users about his experience. He had no idea how many people Maia visited. He thought of her deathly beautiful face…her impossible curves…her flashing dark eyes that changed color mercurially…her waving, jet-black hair…the sweet and overpowering rose scent of her heavenly breath….but wait. She wasn’t heavenly! It was all a trap! She wasn’t a heavenly being — she was demonic! She came to desperate men like him, promising them all the sexual glory of having their fantasies fulfilled, all the while hiding from them the fact that they were actually asking to sacrifice all their power. She was a trickster…a demon. And he had to warn everybody. Quickly, he wrote a long, rambling response to IronWaffle's question, doing his best to stay as faithful to what had happened to him as he could. He knew that he was being unfair to Maia…he knew in the back of his mind that she had given him the opportunity to think about what he was asking for. He remembered how she had made him pause to think, and about how quickly he had been to dismiss her cautionary words. 

Reading through his response, he eventually edited down the part where he railed at Maia. He didn’t just do it to be fair to her — he was actually afraid that if he posted something bad about her, she would make things even worse for him than they already were. After about 45 minutes of writing and editing, he read through his post one last time. He knew it sounded like the rambling diary of a crazy person, but he didn’t really care. It wasn’t like he had an online reputation to uphold. He had been a hardcore lurker for years who almost never posted anything at all. Without wasting any more time to think, he submitted his comment and then reached both hands up to close his laptop with difficulty. He curled up on the sofa like a little puppy and fell into an uneasy sleep.


	10. The Final Straw

That whole week, Timothy dreaded when Clare and the rest of the girls were going to come over. He had terrible anxiety about what was going happen, especially since Beatrice made sure he knew (by dropping hints multiple times a day) that they were all going to have some fun with him. 

“Don’t think that you’ll be able to hide behind me when they come over, little boy,” she said, smiling darkly as she shook her clawed finger at him. “I’m going to pass you around from girl to girl — they’re all gonna get a piece of you! Ohhhh yyeeeaahhh…” She licked her lips at him as her eyebrows went up and down, promising him untold pleasure and torment to come. Timothy didn’t know what to think about all this. Yes, it was true that he dreaded their interaction more and more with each passing day, and yet…he would have been lying to himself if he said that he wasn’t excited. He had no idea how big the girls would be when they came over. Beatrice seemed to be steadily growing a little each day, although at a much slower rate than she had at the party. Timothy wondered what the secret to the acceleration of female growth was, and he found himself, in his rare solitary moments (usually when Beatrice was in the bathroom), praying to Maia for answers. But nothing came. 

The whole week was basically taken up by sitting in between Beatrice’s huge legs on the sofa, watching TV as she worked on her domination website. As he aimlessly watched the host of shows and commercials that flashed before him, Timothy could see his wish coming true, literally before his eyes, all around the world. All the women on TV were bigger, prettier, fresher, and more energetic than he could have ever imagined. They were all amazons — from all the soap operas, the talk shows, and even the newscasts...all around the world, women had become tall, huge, curvy, and voluptuous…almost like goddesses. Their voices were rich and deep, and their eyes flashed with bright power and vitality. Timothy noticed that he hardly ever even saw men on TV, and when he did, they looked short, grey, boring, listless, and totally transfixed by their amazonian female counterparts. He also noticed that there weren’t really any fashion shows anymore. Whereas before all the channels had been inundated by this fashion show and that fashion show, now, there were none to speak of. Timothy understood why…in a world where all the women were massive gorgeous amazons, there was no need for the fashion industry at all. Wherever you looked, you saw beauty — it was impossible to commodify, because it was like air; it was everywhere. 

For an instant here and there, as he watched his wishes come true across the world, Timothy felt a stab of pride. This was all his doing — all of this was happening because he wished it! But even as he felt these tiny little flashes of pride, he was almost immediately brought back to Earth again when he looked around at where he was…what he was. He was in between Beatrice’s lower legs…he was no bigger than her shinbone by this point. Judging from the previous measurements, she was about 8’4 or 8’5 now, and he couldn’t have been more than two and a half feet tall. There wasn’t much mistaking it — he was in a woman’s world now, and he had no power at all. 

Just because she loved to rub it in, Beatrice had bought him a present to emphasize his tininess: a barbie doll. This doll was exactly one foot tall, and had long blond hair, which actually went well with her tanned plastic skin. 

“It’s one of those new barbie dolls,” she said to him happily, “the ones that look like actual women, and not like those pathetic little stick figures that men used to want a woman’s body to look like.” 

“It’s…it’s…kinda big,” said Timothy as he struggled with the doll. She was a little smaller than half his size. 

“For you she is,” said Beatrice, laughing, “And from now on, you will show her some respect by addressing her by her name.” 

“Her…name?” 

“Yes Timmy, her name — it’s Cassie.”

“C-cassie?” 

“Yes. Can you say hello to her? Say hello to Cassie,” laughed Beatrice in a playful and exaggerated baby voice. 

“H-hi Cassie,” he said, obeying her and looking at the doll, who stared blankly back at him. 

“Aww haw haw, so funny,” said Beatrice. “Look at her! She might not be as tall as you, but I think her arms, legs, hips, and ass all have something on you — here, let’s see!” She took Timothy’s thin little arm in her fingers and lined it up with Cassie’s. Even though she was only half as tall as he was, her plastic arm was undeniably thicker and stronger-looking than Timothy’s waifish arm. 

“Oh my god she’s bigger than you,” said Beatrice, as if she could barely believe it. “Here, let’s compare your legs!” Cassie’s was definitely more defined…and considerably larger. Her butt was much bigger as well. Beatrice lined them both up horizontally on the sofa, so that they were lying down next to each other. The curve of Cassie’s hips rose above Timothy’s, with plenty of room to spare. 

Beatrice shook her head as she smiled, clearly pleased with the new purchase. “Pathetic,” she said, her huge body shaking with laughter. Timothy felt his mind reeling as his cock hardened…was he actually being turned on by this series of size comparisons with a lifeless doll?? It couldn’t be…and yet, there it was…his tiny little boner, sticking up from out of his lap. 

“Well well well, look at what we have here!” said Beatrice, her voice rising. “It looks like little Timmy here has taken a liking to Cassie. Love at first sight, huh?” She teased him as she reached over across the sofa to manipulate his body. She held him up so that he stood unsteadily on the sofa, and with her other hand, she took Cassie and brought her up to his face. 

“Why don’t you give your little lady crush a kiss?” snickered Beatrice. She forced Timothy to kiss Cassie over and over. His lips actually went fairly well with hers, he realized. Her mouth was an actual hole, and he was shocked to find himself enjoying sticking his tongue into her. Within minutes, he was aggressively making out with her, abandoning himself. 

“Wow…talk about embracing the role,” laughed Beatrice. “Here, let Cassie repay you the favor.” She forced Timothy to lay on his back on the sofa and brought down Cassie’s mouth so that it hovered above his erection. 

“You want her to blow you, little guy?” cooed Beatrice down at him. “You wanna shoot your load in her mouth?” She brought Cassie’s mouth down on him, and mimed her voice as she made her go up and down, up and down on his length, deepthroating him. 

“Mmmmm….mmmmmm…..mmmmmm!!!!” said Beatrice, miming Cassie’s voice. “Come on Timmy, shoot into my mouth, Timmy!” she said, bringing the doll off his dick and up to his face. “Whitewash my tonsils, Timmy!” Beatrice put Cassie’s mouth back down on his cock, and after a few more passes he couldn’t take it anymore and ejaculated down the doll’s throat.

“Mmm!! Mmmmm!!! Oh!!! Oh yes!!! Ohhhhh…*globlobloggghhhh*!!” Beatrice impersonated the doll in a lewd and lusty voice as she forced its head down on Timothy’s ejaculating cock. It looked from his vantage point that the doll was actually alive, vigorously and aggressively devouring his cock and cum. He threw his head back into the cushion of the sofa, totally overwhelmed as he gave himself completely to the doll’s oral stimulation. He didn’t care that he was a pathetic actor in a completely farcical scenario that was dictated by his cruel and pitiless girlfriend — he didn’t care that he was actually reduced to this awful state of hopelessly ejaculating down a doll’s throat — he didn’t care that it was because he was getting off to the fact that the doll was actually thicker, bigger, and wider than he was….he didn’t much care about anything anymore at this point. Beatrice had broken his spirit; she had hammered him down so low, to such an abysmal state of emotional and physical depredation, that he was actually able to abandon himself to this miserable little role and enjoy it. 

He looked over into Beatrice’s fierce eyes, shining darkly out of her gorgeous face, the face of a dark angel. Yes, he had really discovered the reality of his situation now — the abandonment of hope and the embracing of his utter ruin was all that he had left to give him pleasure, and so give him pleasure it did. He shot rope after rope of cum down the doll’s throat, and when he was finished, Beatrice pulled the doll off his poor spent cock and shook its face in his, talking in that same high-pitched mocking voice. 

“Mmm, Timmy that was sooooo tasty,” she said, moving the doll around like it was having a conversation with him. She shook the doll back and forth, and Timothy could hear sloshing coming from inside the doll…his cum. 

“Mmmm you hear that little boy,” Beatrice continued in the doll’s voice, “that’s all your cum in my tummy! Mmmmm I’m gonna have to do that to you more often until I’m all full…up to the brim…so full that it’s leaking out of my open mouth. Aaaaauuuggghhhghghghh!” 

It was all just too much for Timothy to handle and he collapsed back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling as his mind went blank. “I hope you realize I’m not kidding about that,” said Beatrice a little later, her voice back to normal. 

“A-about what?” asked Timothy nervously. 

“About you filling up that doll with your cum,” said Beatrice.

“Uhhh…h-how am…am I gonna — ” he began, but Beatrice cut him off. These days, it was almost impossible for him to complete a full sentence without her interrupting him. 

“You leave that to me,” said Beatrice, her dark eyes flashing expectantly. Suddenly the doorbell rang and Timothy almost jumped to his feet on the sofa.

“Or…to us,” said Beatrice, a dangerous smile creeping across her face as she stood up to answer the door. Timothy felt like a rock had just dropped into the middle of his stomach. No…it couldn’t be…he thought that the girls were coming over later that week! Had Beatrice been lying to him all along!? What did she have planned!? He didn’t have much time to panic, because almost as soon as his little mind could get racing, he saw Beatrice leading Clare, Ashley, Patricia, and Katie into the room. They were all laughing and talking excitedly at once, looking around at the house. 

“Holy shit!” said Clare loudly, “this house barely contains you, Beatrice! I mean, look at you! You look like a fucking giant in here!” 

“I know,” laughed Beatrice. “You should see me in the bedroom — my head almost touches the ceiling!” 

“Wow,” said Clare, “well, we’re not too far behind you…or at least, I’m not, haha!” She stood up as tall as she could, and Timothy could tell that even though she wasn’t quite Beatrice’s height of 8’5, she was only a few inches shorter — Clare was definitely above 8 feet. 

“Ha!” barked Katie boisterously, going up to Clare and standing up as tall as she could, “what are you talking about, Clare? I’m at least as tall as you, if not more! Come on Beatrice — look, we’re standing back to back — who’s taller?” 

“I think…” said Beatrice carefully, peering at the tops of their heads, “I think…aww hell I don’t even know — I think it’s a tie.” 

“A likely story!” said Katie energetically, bouncing vigorously on her toes. “Well, anyway — I’ve got the biggest ass of anyone here!” As if to prove her point, she waltzed over to the sofa where Timothy was sitting and shook her giant ass in his face. His entire view was obscured; her butt was absolutely enormous, probably five or six times his weight at this point. Katie shook each cheek up and down, up and down, mocking him. 

“Well, Trish here has the biggest boobs,” said Ashley proudly, pointing to Patricia, who blushed and she bounced her enormous tits with her hands. “And I guess I’m just ole’ boring me,” continued Ashley in jest. “I’m not the tallest or the biggest in anything.” 

“But you’re the smartest, Ash,” said Clare immediately. “Come on, at least give yourself a little credit here.” 

“Fair enough,” said Ashley, shrugging her shoulders.

“I think it’s pretty safe to say,” said Beatrice, standing up and addressing the whole group, “that we’re just a whole bunch of badass ladies here — can we all just agree on that?”

“Agreed!” they all said. Timothy could barely breathe as he looked at them all — they were all so big, so tall, so huge in every way, and so crushingly beautiful, that he had to actually remind himself to inhale and exhale. They literally took his breath away. 

“And rich badass ladies at that!” continued Beatrice, whipping out her phone and showing them the statistics of her financial domination site. “It’s only taken a week, ladies, but I already have over one million subscribers!”

“One million!?” screamed Katie in delight. “Oh my god, Beatrice — you’re a fucking genius!”

“How much is a subscription?” asked Clare, who was almost breathless from excitement. 

“One hundred dollars, even,” said Beatrice impressively. “Per month.” 

“Oh. My. God,” said Patricia in a hushed voice. “Beatrice…that…that means…”

“Yes,” said Beatrice slowly as she stood up tall and proud, crossing her arms over her huge chest. “I just made a hundred million dollars, in one week, literally sitting on my couch and sharing pictures of my fat ass and knockout curves. You should see the messages these pathetic little men write to me. And I’m just taking all their money without having to lift a finger.” 

“Brilliant,” breathed Clare, deeply impressed. “That’s just brilliant, Beatrice.” Clare walked up closer to her and stood next to her, pivoting to face the other three girls. It looked like she was about to make an announcement of her own, and she was. 

“And on the back of that amazing, incredible news, I think now is a good time to break some news of my own,” she said, smiling ear to ear.

“Oh?” asked Ashley, bending forward, intrigued. 

“Yes!?” asked Katie, bouncing up and down on her feet, shaking the house with her movement.

“Well, you know all that stock we all have?” said Clare, building up to the climax, “It’s now worth quadruple what it was a month ago, because those new flavors that we introduced have been more of a hit with consumers than we could have ever predicted. Hell, even our competitors are now trying to copy our business model! Ladies…each and every one of us is now the proud owner of millions of dollars worth of stock!” 

“Oh my god!” cried Katie, “we’re all millionaires!”

“Multi-millionaires!” corrected Ashley, her full cheeks reddening in excitement. 

“Holy shit, look at us all,” said Patricia in shock.

“Fuck yeah — we have the world by the balls!” shouted Clare, balling up her fists and looking up at the ceiling (which was not very far from her head). 

“It’s time to celebrate!” said Beatrice joyfully. She danced over to the fridge and brought out bottle after bottle of expensive champagne and vintage wine. 

“Ooooooo,” said all the women in pleasure, anticipating a fun afternoon. All this time, Timothy just sat there inert on the sofa. He was blown away by the power and vitality of these women. His brain didn’t really feel like it could process much more than simply staring at their huge, lithe, curvaceous bodies, and listening to their dulcet voices.

A little while later, the women were all gathered around the sofa, sitting or lounging on the floor as the mood took them. They had mostly ignored Timothy up to this point, but Beatrice could only keep it up for so long. 

“So I got Timmy a doll today,” said Beatrice, interjecting into their conversation. 

“Oh did you?” said Clare. She looked down at Timothy teasingly. “Do you snuggle up to it at night to keep the monsters away?” she asked him in a baby voice. 

“N-no, I…” he began in a tiny voice, but once again Beatrice cut him off. 

“Who said you could talk?” she asked him roughly. “I would’ve thought it was clear from Clare’s tone that her question was rhetorical….and anyway, no, actually — get this everyone — I just got him the doll for fun, to play with and compare his skinny little runt of a body to, but he actually got turned on. By the doll!”

“What a little perv,” laughed Katie, looking over at him and winking as she shook her head. 

“And I got the doll to blow him, and he actually came down its throat!” laughed Beatrice. 

“Oh my god, what??” laughed Clare.

“What in the actual fuck?” said Patricia, hardly believing her ears. 

“I believe it,” said Ashley quietly, flipping her gorgeous chestnut brown hair as she looked over at Timothy. “Timmy’s into humiliation — I think we all knew that, right? And what's more humiliating than to be blown by a literal inanimate object that’s shaped like a human…and to cum in its fake plastic mouth anyway?” 

“Hmmm yes, I think you are the smartest one here, Ashley,” laughed Beatrice, “and actually, you’ve given me a wonderful idea.” Timothy’s heart sank as Beatrice sat up from her lounging position on the sofa. He did not want to be part of another one of Beatrice’s ideas. She pulled his little body effortlessly into her lap. 

“Now ladies, listen to this,” she said, and then all of a sudden Timothy couldn’t hear anything. Beatrice had put a finger over each of his little ears, completely blocking out all sound. He could hear the vibrations of Beatrice’s voice through her lap as she talked, and he could see the excited reactions of all the girls. They were all whipping out their phones and tapping busily away…they were all up to something…and somehow, it was going to involve him. Timothy dreaded what lay ahead. 

Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang. Patricia leapt up to get it, and she returned with a medium-sized package. She hurriedly opened it, and Timothy’s heart sank even further. It was another doll. Except this one was a little taller and thinner than Cassie. The girls all giggled as they lined the doll up with Timothy, making him stand on the floor next to it as Patricia made it stand straight up. He was only an inch taller than the doll, and even though it was overly thin, its arms, legs, and hips were still thicker and wider than his. 

“Pathetic,” said Beatrice. “And she’s a size zero. Guess that makes you a negative size, little boy.” She had brought out Cassie, and was shaking her around for the other women’s amusement. They put their ears close to the doll’s stomach and laughed when they heard Timothy’s cum sloshing around. “Oh there’s more where that came from,” promised Beatrice. “All in good time.”

Right on cue, the doorbell rang again. This time Katie sprang up to answer the door, returning moments later with a package of her own, which she immediately and enthusiastically tore open to reveal a doll of her own. This doll was about as tall as Cassie, a couple inches shorter than Timmy, but was curvy and voluptuous. The girls took great pleasure in lining up Timothy’s naked body with this doll, who, negating height, dwarfed him in every way. Timothy was feeling smaller and smaller by the minute. This cruel humiliation was really starting to take its toll, and he could feel himself shrinking more. What was truly terrifying, however, was that he was actually able, for the first time, to see the other women growing. He looked at Beatrice’s legs and actually saw them extend a little bit. Their growth process was accelerating, even as his shrinking was quickening! 

Two more doorbell rings sent Ashley and Clare bounding up to the answer the call — within minutes, two more dolls had joined the rank around Timothy. They all surrounded him on the sofa, with the girls making sure that their faces pointed his way. The last two dolls were a good deal taller than him — they were around three feet tall, and the girls were delighted to see that Timothy’s head didn’t even come up to these dolls’ chins. And they were womanly-looking dolls, with curves in all the right places. Timothy couldn’t help but notice with trepidation, as he stared at all these dolls looking at him, that they had open mouths and hollow throats. 

“Ok, everyone!” announced Beatrice lustily as each girl grabbed the doll of her choice, “let the orgy begin!” Timothy gasped as the five dolls descended on him rapidly. Cassie took the lead in going straight for his cock — within moments he was hopelessly hard and stuck down Cassie’s hungry throat. The other dolls went for his face, his nipples, and his ass. Patricia had her doll suck on one of his nipples, while Ashley had her doll suck on the other one. Clare’s doll was battling for position with Cassie, and both dolls took turns sticking Timothy’s cock all the way down their throats. Katie’s curvy doll had gone straight for Timothy’s asshole — and her doll had special puckered lips, so he felt it in an intense way when Katie’s doll pried open his little ass cheeks with her plastic hands and thrust her face into his rectum, hungrily lapping at his asshole. Eventually, Katie had her doll insert her hand, then her forearm, and then her entire arm up his ass. His eyes went back into his head, and he bucked and wailed in desperation, trying in vain to shake off the determined assault of the five dolls. 

But their puppet masters were far too strong, and the dolls themselves were stronger and more solid than Timothy’s weak little body. Within a minute he was shooting more cum down the dolls’ throats. The girls were “ooo-ing” and “aahhh-ing” in their various doll voices, hurling insult after insult at Timothy as he came and came and came, over and over, down their throats. They all switched positions after a while, and resumed the assault on his tired and wrecked body with renewed vigor.

“Mmmm give it to me little Timmy!” chirped Katie in her doll voice, impaling her doll’s face completely down on Timothy’s cock. “Mmmrghgmrhrggjdlfifjgfl!!!” She shook the doll’s head back and forth vigorously, and Timothy nearly passed out as he shot another wad of cum straight down into the doll’s tummy. 

“Mmmmmmmmm!!!!” squealed Katie with great exaggeration. “Mmmm Mmmm MMMMMMMM!MMMMM!!!” 

“More!” said Ashley in her own deeper doll’s voice, using her doll to push Katie’s aside, “I want more!! MORE!!!! RRRRAAAUUGGGHHH!!!” She screwed her own doll’s neck so hard and fast down on Timtohy’s cock that he actually squealed like a pig as he exploded in another forced cumshot down its throat. 

“RRRAUGH RAAUGHH RRRRRAAAAAAUUUGGHHHHHH!!!” yelled Ashley, uncharacteristically being taken away by the moment as she used her doll to aggressively milk Timothy’s dick for all he was worth. It went on and on and on. It never seemed to end. He was squirting helplessly into Cassie’s mouth again as Beatrice made lewd slurping noises in his ear. Half an hour later he was howling and bucking his hips again as he burst into Clare’s doll’s throat for the fifth time as Katie’s doll was shoulder-deep in his ass once more. It just kept going and going — it didn’t stop. Fueled by their success, and by the vintage wine they were drinking, the fivesome of huge, gorgeous, amazonian women used their dolls to rape and ravage Timothy’s body for hours until it grew dark outside. 

Timothy had already passed out more times than he could count from the sheer overstimulation of it all, but when he finally didn’t wake up, even with added anal probing, the girls decided to call it a night, and they all went home happy. Timothy awoke suddenly in the night in terror. He was still on the sofa. He could hear Beatrice snoring in the bedroom. And lying next to him was Cassie — she was on her side, and he could see that his cum had been oozing from her open mouth onto the sofa. He looked around him; he was surrounded by dolls. All of them were covered in his cum…it exuded and leaked from their mouths and glinted a ghoulish silver in the moonlight that was spilling in through the window. But one thing in particular stood out to Timothy as he took stock of his silent, ghastly company: all the dolls were bigger than him now. 

A week later, Timothy knew that he didn’t have much longer. He knew that his demise was inevitable at this point, even though, somewhere in his broken mind, he had not stopped praying to Maia to somehow step in and save him from his grim fate. But he had not received an answer as of yet, and he had now truly abandoned all hope. 

Beatrice thought the whole affair was quite funny, and she had even bought him a petri dish to live in. She did it as a joke when he had shrunk to the size of a quarter, but after a day or so, she actually realized that her joke had actually been a thoughtful idea that Timothy needed in order to survive. Without the petri dish to live in, he would have absolutely been squished accidentally by her or by one of his former co-workers, who were now coming and going fairly frequently to hang out with Beatrice, talk business, and watch the ever-shrinking Timmy in his petri dish. None of the women seemed to care much that he was literally shrinking down to nothing, that he was sure to die in a matter of days, if not sooner. It didn’t really seem to matter to them — all that they seemed to care about was making more and more money, which they indeed were in vast and astounding quantities.

One day, all the women were over, talking about the stock market and the continued success of Beatrice’s website. Timothy could hear them, but he couldn’t understand them. To him, their voices were so huge and indistinct that they sounded like thunder. He had grown so small that he was no bigger than a tiny mite, just barely visible to the naked eye. Beatrice had peered in at him and squinted curiously. 

“Just be careful when you come over here to look at our tiny little zoo animal,” she told the rest of the girls, “because if you inhale too hard, you might suck him right up your nose.”

“Gross!” said Katie, laughing. 

“Well, I think more and more he’s finding himself in his natural position,” chuckled Clare darkly, peering down at his tiny, almost-microscopic form. “As a tiny insect…a mite…as…as — ”

“As nothing,” Beatrice finished, nodding her head knowingly. 

“Yes, exactly,” said Clare. “As nothing.” 

That was enough for Timothy to shrink even more — even though he couldn't understand their voices, he had literally shrunk out of sight, and was now no bigger than a microbe. The petri dish looked like an expansive terrarium to him now, a huge and comprehensive world in and of itself. He suddenly fell down as he felt the floor shaking underneath him. What was happening?! He could see the huge and indistinct shapes of the women, big as mountains, literally growing up before his eyes. He realized what the tremors were — they were the results of the girls actually growing in real time. As small and insignificant as he was, he could not help but stare agape as he watched them grow taller, taller, and even taller in front of him. It looked exactly like mountains growing — it was absolutely incredible. He could hear the deep rumblings of their conversation; their voices sounded even more like thunder now, and they were so deep to his tiny microbial ears that he could not even understand even the tiniest bit of conversational cadence. That was it — they could no longer communicate. They had, in every sense of the word, become goddesses to him now. The thunder above him continued. Evidently, they were all still talking and enjoying themselves, totally independent of the fact that he was shrinking to nothing. They were just…talking like he wasn’t even there anymore. 

“Well little one,” said a deep and rich voice behind him. He closed his eyes and turned around, opening them to see Maia looking down on him with a crooked smile on her face, her hands on her hips. She appeared to be the same relative size that she had been when he first laid eyes on her — he was looking directly into her huge breasts. “Now we come to the end.” 

“Th-the end?” he asked uncertainly. His heart started beating quickly. Was she going to save him? Or was he going to die? Was it going to hurt!?

“Yesss, the end,” she breathed out at him, washing his body in her heavenly rose scent. “Soon you’ll be too small to breathe and you’ll pass out…and then your little body will shrink until there’s nothing, nothing at all left of you.” Her eyes flashed a deep red down at him before revering to their jet black. “That’s what you wished for, isn’t it?”

“N-no, not really,” he said. “At..at least, that’s not what I thought I was wishing for.” 

“But here it all is, Timothy,” said the goddess, and suddenly the parchment contract that he had signed (what seemed like) ages ago hovered before him in the air. There it was, all written down: the specific rules for his shrinking, a girlfriend who understood his fetish, the growing of the other women, and their subsequent beautification. He hung his head. It was all there, and it had all happened. But in his haste to make it all come true he had not really considered what it was that he was wishing for. He looked back up at Maia with tears in his eyes as she looked down on him genially, a warm and loving smile on her face. He felt tricked by her on one hand, but on the other, and in the larger part of his brain, he knew that he had no one to blame but himself. 

“W-will…will it hurt?” he managed to ask through his tide of emotion. “When…when I shrink into nothing?” 

Maia bent down to him and planted a soft and divine kiss on the top of his head. “Oh little one,” she said gently, standing back up to her full height, “I think you’ve suffered enough already. No…no it won’t hurt at all.” Timothy breathed a sigh of relief, and felt a calming warmness emanate from her kiss, from her breath, and from her skin, that soothed his body and soul. 

“Why…why aren’t you bigger like last time?” he suddenly asked, curious out of the blue. 

Maia chuckled knowingly. “Oh but I am,” she said, “I am bigger…so much bigger.” She extended her face upward to the women, who were still talking away. “Just like they appear as mountains to you,” she said, “so too would I appear as a mountain to them now.” She cocked her eyebrow pleasantly as she stuck her long tongue into the side of her cheek. “But you wouldn’t even be able to perceive me at that size. I thought it best to appear to you as I did…in the beginning.” 

“Th-thank you, Maia,” said Timothy suddenly, collapsing on his knees as he clasped his hands up to her. “Thank you for everything…even…even if I messed it all up.” 

“Oh what a sweet little thing!” she said brightly, her eyes flashing many colors at once. “Thankful and sweet right up until the end — you know what, just for that I’m going to gift you one last thing before you shrink away.”

“Ohh thank you!” said Timothy, feeling his gratitude well up. 

“Take my hand,” said Maia. Timothy reached up and did, and all of a sudden they were both standing on the edge of the petri dish, being treated to an astounding view of Beatrice’s and Clare’s planet-sized asses as they continued to grow and expand impossibly before their eyes. 

“They’re…still growing…” said Timothy breathlessly. 

“Oh yes,” said Maia. “At this size, you get to really see, up close…from the tiniest possible level, what growing really looks like.” 

“Just…just look at them!” he said in awe, unable to fathom how huge their asses were already…and the fact that they were still actually growing, in this insane moment, before his eyes. Suddenly, the mountains of ass seemed to move and Timothy could barely perceive that one of the girls had turned around and was peering down into the petri dish. Timothy could only see what looked like the end of a nose up close now…her face, whoever it was (it was Beatrice, although Timothy didn’t know it), was so huge that it seemed to stretch for miles and miles away in the sky, way too far for him to see completely. The tip of the nose was all that he could perceive. 

The petri dish started to shake, and Timothy had to cling tightly to Maia to keep from falling off. 

“Wh-what’s happening now?” he asked fearfully. Maia laughed.

“It’s your girlfriend,” she said, her body shaking with her soft mirth. “She’s tapping your home, trying to see if you’re there or not.”

“I am — I am here!” said Timothy. He directed his head up to the sky. “I’m here Beatrice!” he called as loudly as he could. “I’m here!! I’m here!!!” 

Maia laughed again, soft musical laughter. “Oh little one, do you really think she can hear you?” Timothy looked up to see her shaking her head down at him kindly. “When you were normal-sized, could you hear the sound bacteria make when they split cells and grow?” 

“N-no,” said Timothy. 

“Well, they make a noise, you know,” said Maia. “You were just too big to hear it. And just think…you were normal-sized. Your girlfriend just reached ten feet tall.” 

“T-ten feet?!” he stammered incredulously. 

“Oh yes,” said Maia happily. “And the other girls aren’t far behind. You know I must say, that group of women was especially keen on dominating you. I have never seen such enthusiastic ferocity…at least, not in a very long time.” 

“I…I didn’t realize how much they would enjoy it,” admitted Timothy. “Especially…especially Beatrice.” 

“Maia squeezed his hand in her much larger and stronger one. “Desire, especially sexual desire, is a powerful thing, little one. It has the very power of life itself. But desire is not always what it seems.” She smiled down on him one final time, squeezed his hand, and then suddenly, she was gone, the scent of overripe roses swirling all around him. He sighed. He was surprised that he didn’t feel worse about his predicament as he continued to watch the indistinct mountains of the women’s bodies growing up past his vision. It was all thanks to Maia — she had comforted him in his moment of despair. And now…now he would just wait for the end to come. He sat down on the edge of the petri dish, which to him was miles and miles wide, and waited. 

After what seemed like a long time, he became aware that a mighty presence seemed to be hanging high over his head. He craned his little neck up, trying to make out the huge and indistinct shapes that were moving over him in the sky. Gradually, he noticed that what looked like the eye of a hurricane cloud seemed to be forming over his head. He felt the fear grow within him as he realized, like a flash of lightning that this enormous entity was an impossibly enormous pair of puckered lips. He could still tell, by the darkness of the lips, that they belonged to Beatrice. 

“BOO!” 

What sounded like the largest and most deafening clap of thunder that he had ever heard tore through his ears, and Timothy collapsed onto the ground, lying completely prostrate as he put his hands over his ears, desperately trying to protect himself from the cacophony of sound that still vibrated all around and inside him. By the accompanying peals of hugely loud, thunderous laughter, Timothy could tell that Beatrice had meant to scare him, and that she and the girls were having a laugh about it. Wait…could…could they still see him?? It seemed utterly impossible, and yet, their reactions indicated that they had indeed seen him collapse to the ground. He could suddenly understand their language — had he gotten so small that, paradoxically, he could hear them again? 

“Hahaha,” laughed Beatrice, sounding like a goddess as she talked, “look at that — the pathetic loser is still shrinking!” That confirmed it — Maia must have given them goddess-like vision or something; there was no other way that they could possibly see him now. 

“He’s the size of a tiny bacteria,” laughed Clare, “and yet he’s still getting off on us humiliating him — good god Timmy, we knew you didn’t have any self-respect, but this is beyond pathetic, even for you!” The girls laughed as Timothy continued to shrink more and more and more, all the while seeing the girls swell and grow more and more beautiful with each passing second. It was ridiculous; there was no way anyone could possibly be this beautiful, this heavenly, this…godlike. But the evidence was plain to see. 

“I think it is fairly safe to say,” boomed down Clare at him out of the sky, “that you are officially fired, Timmy. I’m sorry, but we’re just gonna have to let you go. You see…you’re useless to us now.”

“Worse than useless,” said Beatrice. “A liability. The only thing that you’re good for now is being our teeny tiny little shrink slave. That’s all you’re good for, little guy. That’s all you can do now.” 

As they kept putting him down, Timothy’s shrinking accelerated even more. He was far smaller than a bacteria now…he was starting to see the spaces in between individual molecules now. He wondered how long it would be before he started counting individual atoms. 

“Thanks for being a beta, Timmy,” laughed Clare’s mammoth voice from somewhere unseen, far up in the impossibly huge universe of the sky, far beyond his visual capacity. “I think you’re kind of like a talisman, a good-luck charm…you’re our tiny little four-leaf clover that keeps us growing, while you keep getting smaller and smaller.” More laughter accompanied Clare’s put-down, and even at this minuscule size, Timothy could feel himself shrinking more still. He could vaguely begin to make out the atomic nuclei around him, which seemed to hang in space, as big as his head. He briefly found himself wondering what the vague kind of cloud-like substance was that seemed to buzz around the nuclei, and then he realized with a shot that he was looking at the electron clouds that rotated at dizzying speed around the atoms. He couldn’t believe it — he really was that small now…at an atomic level.

He looked up in desperation at the sky — everything seemed like a confused muddle of white, as he heard the low-hum frequency of the girl’s voices the equivalent of a million miles away. Timothy began to shake in fear as he felt his shrinking continue — he couldn’t get smaller than this, surely…surely!! But he did…he kept shrinking, and shrinking, and shrinking…until….


End file.
